The shortest affair I’ve ever had!

This weekend sported party night and normally I'd be totally cool with anything that involved alcohol and shaking my booty, you know me. But I don't think I could handle it every weekend. I'm exhausted.

My friends and I went to this sorta popular club in the city. They, who had partied last when MC Hammer was all the rage, complained and grumbled, while the bass line crushed pancakes of my already-frail serenity levels. So I was happy when my ex, surprisingly, took me up on the offer of joining us at the club (which by this point, meeting up with him were fairly rare events).

I slipped back into the warm place I had left on the couch and watched as he danced on the floor.
Filled with unsure well-being, I was up to the usual: drinking a long island iced tea, boring the fingers off a friend on my mobile, and checking out the local talent. Glancing up from my cell phone I caught someone staring at me. That someone was a young woman of 5’4, who wore a long shirt over leggings kinda reminding of the young Joan Jett. Her happy pretty face opened into the biggest smile I think I've ever seen. I told Runa then that I was in love with a girl, and I meant it for like five minutes. Busy chatting with my companions instead of keeping tabs on what was happening, I missed her leaving the lounge and for fifteen minutes I literally prayed to God for her return. My ex wouldn’t speak to me properly and I realized this night was going all wrong. So I took his hand and went onto the middle of the dance floor. His eyes said that he had missed me. Everything that every girl wants to hear. Except for this girl. I moped a bit until I downed my drink, danced with my back to him and blacked out everything. Seconds later he startled me out of my trance by holding me. His breath sounded very loud and heavy next to my ear. For once, this was not a turn-on. I tried to say something, but my own voice, by contrast, sounded heavy and slurred. I might be drunk, I realized.

While dancing with him, I felt someone coming really close to me so I turned to face the enemy who had invaded my dance space and then saw her. She was holding out her hand towards me, I took it and smiled so big that I needed chapstick after. We danced together for ten minutes until my ex grabbed me back. I kept looking at her, dancing close and going away. The music stopped and when I turned around she was leaving. My distress was needlessly profound for how little I had done to hold her attention. I made my best frownie face and waved goodbye. She waved back and was gone. I broke away from his arms and packed up to leave the lounge. Outside we stand and it’s awkward.

"So you’re leaving?" he asked.

"Yeah,” I replied. There was no admission of guilt or rationalization. Just open-eyed honesty, which was tough to be, at that moment.
I let myself be hugged, and perhaps hugged him back a little, taking pleasure in the feeling of being wanted without being had. I wondered what kept me from doing something that I wouldn't be at error in doing. In short what stops me from consuming forbidden fruit when the fruit is essentially hopping out of its skin, pleading to be had?

I could have been another kind of woman. But the woman I am, moved his hand away and walked towards my ride. Went to her room alone. And fell back in hate with her city.

So on that note this post is for the girl who stole the night away and who reminds of a very bollywood-ish version of Joan Jett. And thinking about Joan Jett, got me watching all her videos this morning, when I had this sudden realization: I will never love another musician quite the same way I loved Joan Jett. And that made me kinda sad. I have quite a few favourite bands right now, but I couldn't tell you what all their names are, nor could I name five songs off their current album by title. But with Joan Jett, I knew every song and video, I knew so much about her and...I knew (and, frighteningly, still do) every frame of every video by heart. The videos instantly transported me back the days when my best friend was a Sherrie and a Shane and I would sit there watching 'Crimson & Clover' over, and over, and over again, all of us drooling over Miss Jett. And I miss that. I definitely don't miss being a teenager and fighting with my parents or hating high school, but I miss being that dutiful to a band and feeling like I knew them.

Oh, doesn’t Katherine Moennig look painfully similar to Miss Jett?

Tuesday again, huh? I can't say I'm too pleased about that. And my brain isn’t operating too well. I've got all kinds of things I shouldn't talk about but nothing I should.
I won't talk about sleep. Or, more precisely, the lack of sleep. No matter how appropriate it might be in light of some terrible sleeping this weekend. It's a familiar, old refrain and I'd hate to bore you. But..... before you know it, the damn alarm goes off over and over again and despite being screamed at by my mom because I’ll be feeling about as motivated to go to work as I am about drinking coffee. When I do head to work, it’ll be cold and windy and the traffic will suck. I’ll stroll into my office, booted up and take a sip of tea. Instead of it being the standard measure of milk, water and sugar, with my sleepy head, eyes and hands I would’ve dumped gallons of milk or sugar into it. I’ll feel betrayed. And I’d wonder if my brain knew me. “I thought we were tight, Brain?” Soulless bitch.

3 more days standing between me and the weekend. I think it’s time to get more tea.

Over the weekend I attended a fabulous event at the Opus to watch a live performance by funny man, Vir Das. We had a terrific time--we almost choked on our food as we cackled the night away. I did have a fabulous time and the event left me all stirred up and in such a good mood.
Vir Das, a very charming actor/comedian who used to do a face-kicking funny job on two high-rated comedies, one airing on CNBC called 'News on the Loose' and the other on Zoom TV on the show 'Ek Rahen Bir'. That night, I have to admit that he looked quite sexier than ever might I add and very well toned. He succeeded in making himself sound like an absolute asshole and made me realize why I liked his show so much. Alas, it was all good, clean (well, except for the flowing booze) fun. I'm thrilled and just surprised beyond belief that he actually was nice enough to make conversation and click some pictures with us after the show. And what it all boils down to, ladies and gentlemen, is that I’m a sucker for some good humour especially when it’s been presented by a very hot looking package.

If you've spent any time here, you know that I listen to and own a lot of music. From time to time, I geek-out on your asses with a long rundown of all the stuff I've listened to in a particular week or day I've been digging. I don't plan to bring that to an end anytime soon. Hey, I've created an entire site for it.
Swing by every once in a while - I'll post new reviews of albums and songs as I encounter them. You'll probably see some familiar entries too. So, what are you waiting for? A brand-spankin' new review is up and it's a band you won't want to miss.

There's some discreet supposition that Indie bands are lo-fi, technically weak, shoe-gazers. From the sound of some bands, you'd think the members created their songs out of a hat, practiced for a fine 15 minutes, and then recorded their album in a single take. It's not an awful thing (while occasionally, it really, really is) but every so often that's not what I want to hear. Sometimes I want some of my devotion in musicianship, in uniqueness, reinforced. Enter Mazzy Star and their album ‘So Tonight That I Might See’.
I’m going with the track ‘Fade into you’ because it has something of interest, some little slice of creativity that you’ll find you enjoy. I honestly can’t believe it took me a long time to finally hear this song. It was released/ recorded in 1994 and I’m just now, finally, hearing it. Where have all my music loving friends gone? Why was I not force fed this track, years ago? This track is but a taste of how great this album is. Trust me though, this is a single that needs to be added to your collection.

Sure, I am a comment whore but I also plan on using this for good. I know my current blogroll is a little, well, dated. I'd like you to comment so I can round it out and rebuild it a bit. So, get over here if you haven't already. In the mean time, thanks. Thanks for taking time out of your day to read. I'm not always sure why you do, but I really appreciate it. I'm puzzled, but touched.

An Update

Saturday: There were some really cool clouds out. The ones that look big, fluffy, lumpy like the way perfectly-made mashed potatoes should look. I got back home with Ash at 6:00 pm after buying my birthday dress, holed clay pots and stuff we needed for the invitations. Bought some presents for my friend, the airhostess and decided to give them through Ruan as she’ll be leaving to Doha end of the week. Then Ash and I got down to handwriting the invitations using a couple of lines from a spooky Edgar Allan Poe poem.
After finishing the invitations, we gave each other a look of relief and then proceeded to snapping off pictures of each other.

Sunday: Invitations- check, Dress- check, Caterers- check. All that’s left is the big part of getting my terrace ready for the party which is going to involve a lot of cleaning up. The day of rest before the big storm.

Mr. Flirt is back. For those who didn’t know (which is about everyone), Mr. Flirt left for a week to another country but is back. I now suddenly feel all carefree, smiling, like I’m dancing on sunbeams. I hear the breeze ruffle blades of grass and sigh in happiness; can I possibly decide upon a course which offers even more pleasure? Perhaps.

Moving on, we exchanged easy, playful hugs and kisses in the form of sarcastic comments and in denial that we both missed each other. Finally after a long conversation, we ended the call secure in our friendship and love.

I also went to Amway for a product sampling event with my sisters and I met one very interesting young man- a man who knew a lot about facial products. After he was done with my sister’s face, he signaled me to take my seat. I looked at him and said ‘no one touches this face except me’. He laughed and boy! That was one awesome laugh and just then I regretted for not having my face pampered. Visit to the nutritionist was worse. He wrote down a couple of numbers on a piece of paper and handed it to me. This led to a terrible realization- I was underweight. I walked out and met my bro-in-law who was waiting in the car. The drive back we had to endure my sisters go on and on about how the guy who did their facials was like god and it so made me jealous.

Monday: The preparations are coming along nicely and Ash did a great job on sticking to it and helping me out. I think we are doing great apart from the fact that I cant stop myself but invite every person I meet.

Keeping my fingers crossed about the whole thing. Will keep you updated on the latest…
‘Bottle it up’ is a fascinating track after the big international hit ‘Love Song’ by American singer-songwriter and pianist Sara Bareilles. The song, slowly making it onto the charts, is about love which is what makes the world go round and everything else worth it. With simple but effective instrumentation it’s one of those songs that you’d love to sing along to. Sara Bareilles is a keeper.