As I went through the particulars of yet another gentleman sent by the efficient matchmaking services of Parents’ Network & Co., I thought to myself why not? It’s been a while since I had allowed myself to get set up like this and I kept telling myself: “It was time to step out of my comfort zone, take chances, if not now, when, etc. etc.” Besides, how bad could he be? My friends were already excited about him.
Older? Check = mature, knows what he wants.
Gainfully self-employed? Check = sitting on shit loads of money.
Spouting Shakespeare, showing off French? Check = incurable romantic.
Extra bonuses? Check = enjoys cooking, speaks with a lilting British accent and (claims to have) read Lord of the Rings.
Hmm, all quite intriguing. However, for a change, my mum wasn’t enthusiastic. Are you sure about him? Sounds bit shady. Forget the money, forget the cooking and the faux accent – is he a nice person? Well, if I don’t meet him and try to find out, I’ll never know, right. Reverse psychology was at work here…. aaaaaaarrrrgh.
So on my trip to NY this weekend, I finally decided to see what the fuss was about. Get it over with. Oh! Wait, gotta stay positive right… he could be The One and all that jazz.
Sunday, 1:30 p.m. lunch at Bukhara on 49th and 3rd. It’s 70 degree weather and he’s wearing a black turtleneck. And a scarf. And a jacket. Anyway, we get seated inside and he recommends the lamb chops and the chicken tikkas. He orders up a Scotch and I need a masala chai. It’s 2 p.m. and it’s down to the nitty gritty. The nitty gritty is all about him, his vision and his post-retirement plans ie. next year when he turns 40 and wants to travel the world twice over. zzzzz… what time is it already? Where are the lamb chops? Oh, here they are. Ummm, wonderful. Now about me… I haven’t got a 401k yet and retiring is not on my agenda for a while. I love traveling too but I need something to return to ie. some form of work. Great lamb chops, by the way. The man is sweating profusely now, because duh! the black turtleneck. On top of that, he asks if I am feeling too hot in my jacket. It’s cotton, so I’m fine, thank you very much. Great lamb chops, by the way. I ask him about his other interests. Music? Movies? Star Trek conventions? The poor chap hasn’t had the time to take a vacation in the past 15 years, forget about cultivating a hobby. He has seen 3 cities in all of India and they were all terribly dirty and so, so crowded, you know. Ah well, moving on… did I mention the lamb chops were excellent? I did.
Finally the time has come. For goodbyes. It’s 3:15 p.m. at Penn Station and after a fairly not-interested-in-that-way kinda hug, I promise to email and say I reached DC in one piece. Which I have and I can’t stop raving about the lamb chops. They were great, did I even bother saying that here? Tchah, silly me.
Monday, April 30, 2007
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
WW II... Well, Not Really
I had to put this one up after a recent chat about good ol' DPS (RKP) days... Meeta and I were in the same section in class 11th and 12th. btw, when I talk about nationalities mixing i mean the kids who were learning the language. the "overflow" refers to the 20 kids learning German who couldn't fit into the original "G" section for the German kids. "F" had the French kids and clearly, there was no way they could accomodate the Germans.
Meeta: what section were you in before the 11th? H?
me: I don't remember.. think the one with some Germans and Russians mixed
Meeta: ahh..overflow :)
me: every day was like coming to the Polish front.. but not.. haw haw haw
Meeta: what section were you in before the 11th? H?
me: I don't remember.. think the one with some Germans and Russians mixed
Meeta: ahh..overflow :)
me: every day was like coming to the Polish front.. but not.. haw haw haw
Friday, April 20, 2007
Bizarro Week
As if coping with this week's tragedy was not bad enough for everyone, NBC decided to air all the images and the video of the madman's rant. I'm sure they must be gloating about how they nabbed the "exclusive" but networks seem to have a double standard about what they should or shouldn't air. If you want to air the manifestos of psychos, why just stop with this one. Why not air the suicidal video rants of bombers and every other terrorist act. The last time they decided it was "ethically fine" to air disturbing images in the name of educating the public were the pics from Abu Ghraib. You can argue the video would land up on YouTube anyway and if you're in the news business, you wouldn't blink an eye to question the news value. But if the major media outlets even pretended to be a little responsible about this instead of going ballistic about ratings, it would be a far more different, and even more compassionate, story. And speaking of compassion, I was surprised to see Paula Zahn's complete lack of it. She was practically forcing students to admit how screwed up the university admin response was... NYT has more on the TV coverage here.
On another note, Sanjaya Malekar was finally booted off Idol for singing "Let's Give Em Something to Talk About .. other than hair, yeah yeah." Watching that cheesy show will not be the same again. I think Simon said it best somewhere: "He was like a good horror movie." And a quick mention of the Big Fat Bollywood wedding production which has captured the hearts and and wrists and minds of people everywhere. It was interesting to see that both of Abhishek's exes were there.. in spirit.. Karishma's grandma and uncle as well as Rani's current beau, Adi Chopra. No appearances of Salmaan in court or Vivek holding a press conference.
On another note, Sanjaya Malekar was finally booted off Idol for singing "Let's Give Em Something to Talk About .. other than hair, yeah yeah." Watching that cheesy show will not be the same again. I think Simon said it best somewhere: "He was like a good horror movie." And a quick mention of the Big Fat Bollywood wedding production which has captured the hearts and and wrists and minds of people everywhere. It was interesting to see that both of Abhishek's exes were there.. in spirit.. Karishma's grandma and uncle as well as Rani's current beau, Adi Chopra. No appearances of Salmaan in court or Vivek holding a press conference.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Mid-Week Stupor
Like going home again, up the flight of stairs
And met with the familiar banter of so-how-was-your-day and stuff.
There were the suits and ties and frazzled hair,
That spoke of a day’s work gone by in a fluff.
Daniel was his name and he made key lime martinis,
For the birthday boy’s drink of choice was a gin and tonic.
But the girls gushed over and some got the freebies,
Between talk of whether Gonzales and Wolfowitz were truly apologetic.
In the middle a furry creature was found sitting in calm composure
Amidst the din of who did what to whom when and where.
“I think I’m drunk” was a tossed around phrase of guilt and pleasure,
But the usual lovers of all things malted surprisingly stayed (mostly) sober there
Finally, the troops remembered the curfew – we all had jobs to keep after all,
Trudged down into the pouring rain and the sleek wet streets -
To munch on Julia’s hot empanadas and mull over other birthdays to recall,
Before our knights in yellow armor drove us home to be tucked under the sheets.
And met with the familiar banter of so-how-was-your-day and stuff.
There were the suits and ties and frazzled hair,
That spoke of a day’s work gone by in a fluff.
Daniel was his name and he made key lime martinis,
For the birthday boy’s drink of choice was a gin and tonic.
But the girls gushed over and some got the freebies,
Between talk of whether Gonzales and Wolfowitz were truly apologetic.
In the middle a furry creature was found sitting in calm composure
Amidst the din of who did what to whom when and where.
“I think I’m drunk” was a tossed around phrase of guilt and pleasure,
But the usual lovers of all things malted surprisingly stayed (mostly) sober there
Finally, the troops remembered the curfew – we all had jobs to keep after all,
Trudged down into the pouring rain and the sleek wet streets -
To munch on Julia’s hot empanadas and mull over other birthdays to recall,
Before our knights in yellow armor drove us home to be tucked under the sheets.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Culture Vulture
Recently I went to two DC institutions for very different reasons. No, I'm not talking about Ben's Chilli Bowl or the Soviet Safeway. The Kennedy Center showcased the Spinning Wheel Film Festival where I saw 3 documentaries based on the Sikh experience. “My Mother India” was about a mixed marriage – an Australian woman comes to Delhi after marrying a Sikh and through historical and personal events, becomes more Indian than her daughter thought she could be. Very Sonia Gandhi-type story. Gurinder Chadha’s “Acting Our Age” was about a group from an old folks home in London who film and talk about their generation’s struggles. Lots of entertaining humor, especially a folksy song on taking to Guinness. Finally, Ali Kazimi’s very powerful “Runaway Grooms” which chronicled the stories of two women from Delhi and Punjab who met and married their NRI husbands, only to be abandoned by them in a matter of weeks. According to the film, there are 10,000 brides who are abandoned by their husbands (mostly from Canada) because they fail to pay dowry.
The other place was the 9:30 Club, which has been around since the 80s and is known for supporting alternative bands. So my first time there and a bunch of us went to see a UK band called the Kaiser Chiefs. The experience was complete with the mandatory club brawl, spilt drinks and the random crowd surfer (who fell down but got back up again with a triumphant woohoo!). I could hear a lot of different accents around the place and it was just cool to be around people who really knew their stuff on music. The band finally came on and put on a super energetic performance. The lead singer had very Bryan Ferry kind of vocals and the audience lapped up the curtain call number and yelled out the chorus: "Oh My God I can’t believe it I’ve never been this far away from home." Someone said that song should’ve been on the soundtrack of The Namesake!
Speaking of which, how many times can you see that film? Definitely not more than twice. Someone bought me a ticket by mistake and I had to run out after 10 mins. and snuck in to see 300 instead… not sure how accurate it was historically (did Persians have African slaves at that point? and did the more liberal-minded Spartan women dress like the Roman women?) but it was a wise choice if only to check out Gerard Butler’s very fine abs. So worth the ticket price!
The other place was the 9:30 Club, which has been around since the 80s and is known for supporting alternative bands. So my first time there and a bunch of us went to see a UK band called the Kaiser Chiefs. The experience was complete with the mandatory club brawl, spilt drinks and the random crowd surfer (who fell down but got back up again with a triumphant woohoo!). I could hear a lot of different accents around the place and it was just cool to be around people who really knew their stuff on music. The band finally came on and put on a super energetic performance. The lead singer had very Bryan Ferry kind of vocals and the audience lapped up the curtain call number and yelled out the chorus: "Oh My God I can’t believe it I’ve never been this far away from home." Someone said that song should’ve been on the soundtrack of The Namesake!
Speaking of which, how many times can you see that film? Definitely not more than twice. Someone bought me a ticket by mistake and I had to run out after 10 mins. and snuck in to see 300 instead… not sure how accurate it was historically (did Persians have African slaves at that point? and did the more liberal-minded Spartan women dress like the Roman women?) but it was a wise choice if only to check out Gerard Butler’s very fine abs. So worth the ticket price!
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
Cups of Joe
I rolled out of bed on Sat. morning with a familiar crisis from the past few weeks: no milk for my java. As I set off with the intent of picking up said dairy product, I found myself instead wandering in to a place called Jacob’s Coffeehouse between D and Maryland Ave. I couldn’t believe such a nice place existed so close to where I live! The menu is classic café with baked goods, breakfast sandwiches and soup, all freshly made instead of plastic wrapped. While outside they have a nice patio space, I loved the inside, too: the freshly painted walls (the place only opened last October) was decorated with very nice art work – not the usual paintings of scenes from a café – and some interesting black metal stuff. Also dotting the premises were some beautiful bonsai plants and a dark wooden bookcase with a pretty decent collection… think PD James jostling for shelf space with Margaret Atwood… however, at 1 pm what won me over was a nice cushy single seater next to a glass top table on which was spread the latest issues of Vanity Fair and US Weekly. Nothing better to kill an hour with.
The next best cup of joe this weekend came from Café Bonaparte. I had gone to see my pal K who recently got married and had come down for a visit with his wife. We had intended to go for Sunday brunch but the hour-long wait turned it into some sort of mid-afternoon starvation exercise. At the parking lot across the street, a few of us ended up singing to Tom Petty songs wafting from the Marvelous Market next door and taking goofy SLR pictures of each other. But the wait was worth it: the crepes were yumm and so was the mocha cappuccino. I just didn’t understand the pictures of Italy in a French bistro... or the Russian waitress, for that matter. But the food and company was excellent.
Later in the evening, we decided to cook dinner at A’s place in Foggy Bottom. First a pit stop for the groceries where it was shocking to see A picking up chicken curry paste as opposed to making the real deal from scratch. He promised it would turn out well and there wasn’t much time to protest as we were literally herded out by K… he wanted to catch “Planet Earth” on the Discovery Channel and there was no way a convoluted dinner menu would get in the way. But we managed to get back on time – not only to watch the sad polar bears swimming for survival in the Arctic but also to make that chicken curry, daal and aaloo gobi for the junta. And actually, that curry paste wasn’t too bad either!
Finally can I just recommend anyone reading this to see "Blades of Glory." Best Will Farrell movie ever. 'Nuff said.
The next best cup of joe this weekend came from Café Bonaparte. I had gone to see my pal K who recently got married and had come down for a visit with his wife. We had intended to go for Sunday brunch but the hour-long wait turned it into some sort of mid-afternoon starvation exercise. At the parking lot across the street, a few of us ended up singing to Tom Petty songs wafting from the Marvelous Market next door and taking goofy SLR pictures of each other. But the wait was worth it: the crepes were yumm and so was the mocha cappuccino. I just didn’t understand the pictures of Italy in a French bistro... or the Russian waitress, for that matter. But the food and company was excellent.
Later in the evening, we decided to cook dinner at A’s place in Foggy Bottom. First a pit stop for the groceries where it was shocking to see A picking up chicken curry paste as opposed to making the real deal from scratch. He promised it would turn out well and there wasn’t much time to protest as we were literally herded out by K… he wanted to catch “Planet Earth” on the Discovery Channel and there was no way a convoluted dinner menu would get in the way. But we managed to get back on time – not only to watch the sad polar bears swimming for survival in the Arctic but also to make that chicken curry, daal and aaloo gobi for the junta. And actually, that curry paste wasn’t too bad either!
Finally can I just recommend anyone reading this to see "Blades of Glory." Best Will Farrell movie ever. 'Nuff said.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
A Special Tête-a-Tête
Maybe it was something about the amazing weather we've been having lately here that people on the streets are being super friendly... and so I found myself lo! and behold! bumping into my landlord and exchanging real, actual, you could even say near-geniune, pleasantries. In the past, I often passed T on my way to the metro or coming home late one night when he too, would umm, be opening the door for his boyfriend. The conversation would be stilted due to several reasons - me knowing T hates me for still occupying his flat (why? see blog entry on "putting out kitchen fires"); T being generally awkward and unsocial; and me silently cursing him for getting action and at the same time praying that he would not say something, anything about the flat. or why I was still in it. But inspite of the banalities, I could still get hurt as it happened once when he totally ignored me on the street while walking home with the bf and so we couldn't even have that little awkward conversation which makes a landlord-tenant relationship so special. More reason to blame the new bf, I say!
Any-ho, Monday was the kind of day when the right temperature met the right gust of wind and decided to spread a general warmth and cheer around everyone. As I was yakking on the phone and about to cross the street, I saw T approaching. "Just a sec," I told my friend.
"Hi there.. long time. How are you?" I smiled at T.
"I'm good. It's a lovely day, isn't it?" he said, smiling back.
"It is indeed. We haven't seen you around. Have you been well? Out of town?" I asked.
"Yes I was in Chicago for a conference," he said (still smiling).
"Ah, well you know M is going to India next month. If you need anything, please let her know," I said.
"Thanks a lot but if I did tell her what I wanted I might give her a pretty long list," he said (STILL smiling. wow!).
"Oh I'm sure she won't mind," I said. "OK, well have a nice day."
"You too, enjoy the weather," he said. (OMG.. still smiling)
I called M and shared the brilliant news - he TALKED to me. what's going on? Daylight Savings Time, perhaps? I'm pleased as punch.. he doesn't hate me anymore.. does he?
Any-ho, Monday was the kind of day when the right temperature met the right gust of wind and decided to spread a general warmth and cheer around everyone. As I was yakking on the phone and about to cross the street, I saw T approaching. "Just a sec," I told my friend.
"Hi there.. long time. How are you?" I smiled at T.
"I'm good. It's a lovely day, isn't it?" he said, smiling back.
"It is indeed. We haven't seen you around. Have you been well? Out of town?" I asked.
"Yes I was in Chicago for a conference," he said (still smiling).
"Ah, well you know M is going to India next month. If you need anything, please let her know," I said.
"Thanks a lot but if I did tell her what I wanted I might give her a pretty long list," he said (STILL smiling. wow!).
"Oh I'm sure she won't mind," I said. "OK, well have a nice day."
"You too, enjoy the weather," he said. (OMG.. still smiling)
I called M and shared the brilliant news - he TALKED to me. what's going on? Daylight Savings Time, perhaps? I'm pleased as punch.. he doesn't hate me anymore.. does he?
Thursday, March 22, 2007
So Sick of It
What are the high and low points of being stuck at home with the flu?
High:
1. the bed/couch is your best friend. you get to sleep really, really late or just nod off during the middle of the day not because you can but because you're so drugged up you can't help it.
2. you discover daytime TV. besides looking forward to Oprah, I finally caught up with the loves and lives of Ridge, Brooke and co. on "The Bold and the Beautiful." amazing how they still recycle those affairs.
3. the bad throat makes you acquire a certain something in your voice which in turn makes you call everyone you possibly know so they in turn can make appropriate sympathetic noises and give you all the home remedies they know about bad throats but finally say what you've been dying to hear all along: "you're sounding terribly sexy!"
4. can't taste a damn thing. can't eat much of a damn thing. lost 3 lbs!! best diet ever :)
Lows:
1. idle mind is a devil's workshop... figure that one out!
2. a stuffy nose just snuffs out all sensory pleasures, especially nice-smelling food... which is kinda good because then i'm not eating it, right.
3. made the mistake of going out to cover a Hill event... trying to cough v.discreetly inside a packed committee room is the most painful thing I've done since.. since.. since.. my gums were giving me trouble last week. plus couldn't shake hands with 22-yr-old cute congressional intern coz i would make him sick too. bah.
4. no booze while you're sick.. but the alchohol content in the throat syrup is making me feel pretty good!
High:
1. the bed/couch is your best friend. you get to sleep really, really late or just nod off during the middle of the day not because you can but because you're so drugged up you can't help it.
2. you discover daytime TV. besides looking forward to Oprah, I finally caught up with the loves and lives of Ridge, Brooke and co. on "The Bold and the Beautiful." amazing how they still recycle those affairs.
3. the bad throat makes you acquire a certain something in your voice which in turn makes you call everyone you possibly know so they in turn can make appropriate sympathetic noises and give you all the home remedies they know about bad throats but finally say what you've been dying to hear all along: "you're sounding terribly sexy!"
4. can't taste a damn thing. can't eat much of a damn thing. lost 3 lbs!! best diet ever :)
Lows:
1. idle mind is a devil's workshop... figure that one out!
2. a stuffy nose just snuffs out all sensory pleasures, especially nice-smelling food... which is kinda good because then i'm not eating it, right.
3. made the mistake of going out to cover a Hill event... trying to cough v.discreetly inside a packed committee room is the most painful thing I've done since.. since.. since.. my gums were giving me trouble last week. plus couldn't shake hands with 22-yr-old cute congressional intern coz i would make him sick too. bah.
4. no booze while you're sick.. but the alchohol content in the throat syrup is making me feel pretty good!
Sunday, March 18, 2007
A Tale or Three
Before I say anything else, let me report that there are 2 doves right now sitting on my porch railing who are shamelessly canoodling away to glory... one of them is definitely more aggressive and the other is happily accepting the pecks without any untoward complaint. i have recorded the event with several pics.. as you can see.. i don't think they will mind a little paris hiltoneqsue kind of fame. aww, the loveburrrds.
what else? friday was freezing rain here in DC and in the middle of all that action, I had to pay an emergency visit to the dentist. basically I was told (and I quote): "you've been a bad, bad, bad girl." and I need my wisdom teeth pulled out asap otherwise I will be damned in hell. since I had the fear of god put in me I made hasty appointments with the oral surgeon, etc. but the whole wisdom teeth thing in the U.S. is such a con game.. anything to serve the interests of the dental community. hrrmpf. but those who've had it removed say it's made a difference so let's see what happens. watch this space.
I think my folks have some sixth sense about what I'm talking about here. so I think baba felt sort of left out and guess what! he just managed to do something that warranted his presence here. and the story goes that he was coming back from kuala lumpur on a business trip and one of his hand bags got switched with someone else's. baba's hand bag contained: 1 bottle of Black Label, 2 bags of sweets. someone else's bag contained: 3 bottles of Black Label. who profits? your guess is as good as mine :)
what else? friday was freezing rain here in DC and in the middle of all that action, I had to pay an emergency visit to the dentist. basically I was told (and I quote): "you've been a bad, bad, bad girl." and I need my wisdom teeth pulled out asap otherwise I will be damned in hell. since I had the fear of god put in me I made hasty appointments with the oral surgeon, etc. but the whole wisdom teeth thing in the U.S. is such a con game.. anything to serve the interests of the dental community. hrrmpf. but those who've had it removed say it's made a difference so let's see what happens. watch this space.
I think my folks have some sixth sense about what I'm talking about here. so I think baba felt sort of left out and guess what! he just managed to do something that warranted his presence here. and the story goes that he was coming back from kuala lumpur on a business trip and one of his hand bags got switched with someone else's. baba's hand bag contained: 1 bottle of Black Label, 2 bags of sweets. someone else's bag contained: 3 bottles of Black Label. who profits? your guess is as good as mine :)
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Birthday Loving
I don’t want to get all senti, but I’m definitely going to miss throwing a nice party for my mum who turns 60 in the next few days and is finally retiring from a long, and highly rewarding, career. So I’ll do the next best thing: write about her crazy adventures! :)
It’s easy to describe your mother as a traditional caregiver, slaving away in the kitchen, a self-sacrificing woman with multiple roles who does everything to make home, hearth and everything in between complete. I’d like to think of Maa through a series of vignettes: as a 12-year-old, sitting on the rooftop of her family home, legs dangling and freshly-applied oil dripping from her hair, the clothesline behind her as she bites into an apple and frowns at the camera because the sun is getting in her eyes. Or at 16 when she aces her class and wins the basketball trophy at school, she gets a call from the principal’s office: not to be cheered or to be chastised, but to be asked if her parents would be interested in a certain boy who happened to be a relative of the principal’s? Then a stark studio picture circa 1965, wearing one of those tight kurtas of the day and a shy smile, but a confidence that perhaps came from riding the rickshaw with her best friend to Allahabad U. and enjoying the whistles and filmi songs along the way. Finally, the Sadhana fringe and the dark sunglasses and the crowded rides on the local train that came along with her move to do a master’s at Bombay U. She was always cool and she didn't even know it.
But Maa is basically having a party wherever she goes and no matter what the age. And just last week she was having another one at a friend’s son’s wedding. They were the bong baraatis going with every intention of having fun at the expense of a punju bridal party. Maa stuck to good old Coke and watched as two of her pals happily headed towards the bar. As Aunty #1 and Aunty #2 gulped down their Old Monks and JW, the intensity of laughter increased. The good times were rolling so well that Aunty #1 craved a fag after nearly 10 years of quitting. Aunty #2 told her to shut up and breathe the tandoor smoke instead. The three 50-somethings continued to comment on the food, the lovely bride and why Sonu Nigam was still as cute as ever and considering “these times,” how he had not managed to split up with his wife, a bengali, of course.
“We were sitting in one corner and just laughing so loudly, after a while your father had to come and shhh us up,” she said. “So after that I had to look after those two properly.” Will somebody grow up, please?! :) Nah, why bother.
It’s easy to describe your mother as a traditional caregiver, slaving away in the kitchen, a self-sacrificing woman with multiple roles who does everything to make home, hearth and everything in between complete. I’d like to think of Maa through a series of vignettes: as a 12-year-old, sitting on the rooftop of her family home, legs dangling and freshly-applied oil dripping from her hair, the clothesline behind her as she bites into an apple and frowns at the camera because the sun is getting in her eyes. Or at 16 when she aces her class and wins the basketball trophy at school, she gets a call from the principal’s office: not to be cheered or to be chastised, but to be asked if her parents would be interested in a certain boy who happened to be a relative of the principal’s? Then a stark studio picture circa 1965, wearing one of those tight kurtas of the day and a shy smile, but a confidence that perhaps came from riding the rickshaw with her best friend to Allahabad U. and enjoying the whistles and filmi songs along the way. Finally, the Sadhana fringe and the dark sunglasses and the crowded rides on the local train that came along with her move to do a master’s at Bombay U. She was always cool and she didn't even know it.
But Maa is basically having a party wherever she goes and no matter what the age. And just last week she was having another one at a friend’s son’s wedding. They were the bong baraatis going with every intention of having fun at the expense of a punju bridal party. Maa stuck to good old Coke and watched as two of her pals happily headed towards the bar. As Aunty #1 and Aunty #2 gulped down their Old Monks and JW, the intensity of laughter increased. The good times were rolling so well that Aunty #1 craved a fag after nearly 10 years of quitting. Aunty #2 told her to shut up and breathe the tandoor smoke instead. The three 50-somethings continued to comment on the food, the lovely bride and why Sonu Nigam was still as cute as ever and considering “these times,” how he had not managed to split up with his wife, a bengali, of course.
“We were sitting in one corner and just laughing so loudly, after a while your father had to come and shhh us up,” she said. “So after that I had to look after those two properly.” Will somebody grow up, please?! :) Nah, why bother.
Monday, March 12, 2007
Sightings and Musings
Spotted: Hardball’s Chris Matthews walking in a daze near Zara’s in Georgetown.
Spotted and Giggled: One squeaky Blue Jay bird circling one frustrated grey cat behind the Federal Judiciary building. Cat loses the old fight. Again.
Spotted and Observed: An Abercrombie & Fitch-type couple on the Orange Line playing curious flirting game: Boy (imagine blonde version of Christopher Reeve) enters train and sits down. After 5 mins. a girl (imagine Margot Kidder with hazel eyes) enters same train car and sits in seat across from boy. Boy looks down, pretends he doesn’t know her. Girl delicately places purse in empty seat next to her. Looks at boy and smiles. Boy smiles and shakes head. Girl pretends to undo jacket button, tosses hair and makes hand movement to say how hot it is. Boy, fairly amused by now, laughs and looks down. Girl rolls her eyes and sends text message to boy. Finally, boy goes over and sits next to her.
Spotted and Glazed Over: A silver hybrid Volkswagen Beetle with some snazzy wheels in Arlington ie. one of my dream cars.
Spotted: At least two women near Chinatown wearing a red and black keffiyeh ie. the Palestinian scarf. It did not look they were making a political statement.
Spotted: Man strolling in red kilt and sweater at Union Station (did not stop to spot lack of underwear)
Spotted and Consumed: Another near-perfect cappuccino at Bagels and Baguettes on the Hill. The coffee and sandwiches are to die for – on weekdays you can see the line out the door – but it’s perfect to fix a hangover on a late Sunday morning!
Spotted and Giggled: One squeaky Blue Jay bird circling one frustrated grey cat behind the Federal Judiciary building. Cat loses the old fight. Again.
Spotted and Observed: An Abercrombie & Fitch-type couple on the Orange Line playing curious flirting game: Boy (imagine blonde version of Christopher Reeve) enters train and sits down. After 5 mins. a girl (imagine Margot Kidder with hazel eyes) enters same train car and sits in seat across from boy. Boy looks down, pretends he doesn’t know her. Girl delicately places purse in empty seat next to her. Looks at boy and smiles. Boy smiles and shakes head. Girl pretends to undo jacket button, tosses hair and makes hand movement to say how hot it is. Boy, fairly amused by now, laughs and looks down. Girl rolls her eyes and sends text message to boy. Finally, boy goes over and sits next to her.
Spotted and Glazed Over: A silver hybrid Volkswagen Beetle with some snazzy wheels in Arlington ie. one of my dream cars.
Spotted: At least two women near Chinatown wearing a red and black keffiyeh ie. the Palestinian scarf. It did not look they were making a political statement.
Spotted: Man strolling in red kilt and sweater at Union Station (did not stop to spot lack of underwear)
Spotted and Consumed: Another near-perfect cappuccino at Bagels and Baguettes on the Hill. The coffee and sandwiches are to die for – on weekdays you can see the line out the door – but it’s perfect to fix a hangover on a late Sunday morning!
Thursday, March 08, 2007
Stop Press!
The news is not that it’s international women’s day and how we must celebrate our womanhood by avidly following Elizabeth Hurley and Arun Nayar’s nuptials in a castle and then a palace with Parmeshwar Godrej and Shilpa Shetty’s air kisses at all the parties thrown in between. It’s not even news that the Cricket World Cup is starting next week and the cup itself has become slightly damaged thanks to overzealous fans (in Kolkata, where else?) and for a change we don’t have to stay awake at odd hours of the night to see the matches. It’s not news that I. Lewis “Scooter” Libby has been found guilty of lying and to say that everyone is disappointed not to hear from Karl Rove instead of Richard Artmitage, would be mildly putting it. And it’s certainly not news that Daniel Radcliffe aka Harry Potter is now making love to horses on West End.
The news IS that Steven Spielberg has started pre-production for Les Adventures de Tintin. And it’s not going to be an animated feature. Blistering barnacles! 10,000 thundering typhoons!!! Captain Haddock, Professor Calculus, the Thompson Twins and of course Snowy and Lady Bianca's parrot... all coming to the big screen... can you tell I’m excited? Some might think that Hollywood will ruin a good thing but I think Hergé would approve of Spielberg taking a shot at it. After all, worse movies have been made of other franchises. But the Batman (OK only the ones with Christian Bale) and Spiderman movies are doing their fans and creators proud.
The news IS that Steven Spielberg has started pre-production for Les Adventures de Tintin. And it’s not going to be an animated feature. Blistering barnacles! 10,000 thundering typhoons!!! Captain Haddock, Professor Calculus, the Thompson Twins and of course Snowy and Lady Bianca's parrot... all coming to the big screen... can you tell I’m excited? Some might think that Hollywood will ruin a good thing but I think Hergé would approve of Spielberg taking a shot at it. After all, worse movies have been made of other franchises. But the Batman (OK only the ones with Christian Bale) and Spiderman movies are doing their fans and creators proud.
Monday, March 05, 2007
Holi Sunday
My roomie and I had a really fun potluck this Sunday afternoon. Some highlights included M cooking kadai chicken till 3 a.m. and waking up 4 hours later to make appetizers; playing antakshari and singing horribly out of tune, of course; C brings guest who brings another guest who knocks over furniture; D’s guest falls off papasan chair! Sits right back up to sing Rafi melodies; U brings bloody mary mix without the vodka…duh! Takes out trash to compensate; G makes cutting chai sans sugar. Su steps in for second round, makes kick ass adrak chai. And props to most women who turned up in desi outfits and the 2-3 men who obliged as well :)
Some random quotes from the afternoon:
“I really can’t look inside his brain right now.”
“I might gag if she dances on the table.”
"I look like Punju aunty on her morning walk."
“If your landlord evicts you now, you have enough people here to help you move.”
“The heat is on, yaar.. umm, sorry I didn’t mean it to come out like that.”
“What’s funny is you state the obvious and then make it worse by explaining what you just said!”
“Did you just say hermaphrodite?”
“The irony is you women can have it anytime but you don’t have the desire. Not always at least.”
“Can you please stop announcing I look like Michael Jackson?”
“Last time I had a potluck at my place you slept over, remember?”
“I am going to rediscover my roots... on Palace on Wheels.”
“Start by losing your American accent.”
“Yeah my room is cosy. It’s definitely not Starbucks or Kramer’s.”
“Am I supposed to know where your room is?”
“I’m getting a feeling you like flan.”
“How come I don’t get introduced to her… because I’m not from MIT?”
“Look at your shoes. What’s your size?”
“Of course I have talked about you… just not very good things.”
“There’s a lot of talent in this room.”
Some random quotes from the afternoon:
“I really can’t look inside his brain right now.”
“I might gag if she dances on the table.”
"I look like Punju aunty on her morning walk."
“If your landlord evicts you now, you have enough people here to help you move.”
“The heat is on, yaar.. umm, sorry I didn’t mean it to come out like that.”
“What’s funny is you state the obvious and then make it worse by explaining what you just said!”
“Did you just say hermaphrodite?”
“The irony is you women can have it anytime but you don’t have the desire. Not always at least.”
“Can you please stop announcing I look like Michael Jackson?”
“Last time I had a potluck at my place you slept over, remember?”
“I am going to rediscover my roots... on Palace on Wheels.”
“Start by losing your American accent.”
“Yeah my room is cosy. It’s definitely not Starbucks or Kramer’s.”
“Am I supposed to know where your room is?”
“I’m getting a feeling you like flan.”
“How come I don’t get introduced to her… because I’m not from MIT?”
“Look at your shoes. What’s your size?”
“Of course I have talked about you… just not very good things.”
“There’s a lot of talent in this room.”
Thursday, March 01, 2007
Thanking You Very Kindly
There are kind people and then there are those who actually perform random acts of kindness without knowing what they just did.
I woke up carrying a headache the size of the erstwhile U.S.S.R. (ie. very big) and almost couldn’t turn my head without a piercing throb attacking my central lobe system (ie. freakin brain in general). But I dutifully trudged to work and tried to gulp down my coffee without burning myself, hoping against hope it would work a miracle in 90 seconds or less. Clearly, it did not. It continued to get so bad, in fact, that I had to call a friend: “So what exactly is dizziness a symptom of?” Stupid question. “It could mean a lot of things,” he said in clipped medical tone. “But sit down, or lie down, somewhere.”
So there I was on the Metro, trying to have a quiet shut eye while listening to Norah Jones and commanding caffeine and central lobe to meet harmoniously for my sake. I didn’t really notice when some dude got in to the seat beside me. And I didn’t really notice when my eyes started watering up… just a trickle and before I knew it, I was wiping away a tear! No, the music wasn’t as moving as the train (except for tracks 5 and 13, but more on that later), the dude next to me didn’t smell of onions and I don’t think I was PMS-ing. Maybe I was stressed about a deadline or mourning my dead plant or missing my dog. No, I was just having a random emotional outburst. Anyway, this dude also has his music going on but he finally notices the silent sniffler next to him. And I can definitely feel he’s getting uncomfortable because he’s getting very shifty (not in a shady way, though). Finally he taps me on the shoulder and asks, “Would you like me to move?” I could’ve started howling – but then it would scare everyone out of the train – but I managed to shake my head and smile. He was kind enough to ask and that’s all I needed. Besides a couple aspirins and more coffee. Sanity, at last.
I woke up carrying a headache the size of the erstwhile U.S.S.R. (ie. very big) and almost couldn’t turn my head without a piercing throb attacking my central lobe system (ie. freakin brain in general). But I dutifully trudged to work and tried to gulp down my coffee without burning myself, hoping against hope it would work a miracle in 90 seconds or less. Clearly, it did not. It continued to get so bad, in fact, that I had to call a friend: “So what exactly is dizziness a symptom of?” Stupid question. “It could mean a lot of things,” he said in clipped medical tone. “But sit down, or lie down, somewhere.”
So there I was on the Metro, trying to have a quiet shut eye while listening to Norah Jones and commanding caffeine and central lobe to meet harmoniously for my sake. I didn’t really notice when some dude got in to the seat beside me. And I didn’t really notice when my eyes started watering up… just a trickle and before I knew it, I was wiping away a tear! No, the music wasn’t as moving as the train (except for tracks 5 and 13, but more on that later), the dude next to me didn’t smell of onions and I don’t think I was PMS-ing. Maybe I was stressed about a deadline or mourning my dead plant or missing my dog. No, I was just having a random emotional outburst. Anyway, this dude also has his music going on but he finally notices the silent sniffler next to him. And I can definitely feel he’s getting uncomfortable because he’s getting very shifty (not in a shady way, though). Finally he taps me on the shoulder and asks, “Would you like me to move?” I could’ve started howling – but then it would scare everyone out of the train – but I managed to shake my head and smile. He was kind enough to ask and that’s all I needed. Besides a couple aspirins and more coffee. Sanity, at last.
Monday, February 26, 2007
Such a Pansy
Union Station. 6:30 p.m. i'm sitting on a bench minding my business when a homeless dude comes up and presents me with a flower.
dude: pretty flower for pretty girl
me (rolling eyes): huh. thank you
dude (shaking finger): do you know what that flower is called?
me: yes. it's a pansy.
dude (really shocked): gee, most girls don't know that. so could you spare me some change?
me: sorry i'm all out of change... would you like to give the flower to someone who does?
dude (shaking head): it's fine, just keep it. i can't believe you knew the name of the flower.
me: umm, sorry!
he goes off looking for other victims in clueless flora world.
dude: pretty flower for pretty girl
me (rolling eyes): huh. thank you
dude (shaking finger): do you know what that flower is called?
me: yes. it's a pansy.
dude (really shocked): gee, most girls don't know that. so could you spare me some change?
me: sorry i'm all out of change... would you like to give the flower to someone who does?
dude (shaking head): it's fine, just keep it. i can't believe you knew the name of the flower.
me: umm, sorry!
he goes off looking for other victims in clueless flora world.
Thursday, February 22, 2007
It's Over
my no-alchohol diet for this month is officially over... i had two glasses of wine in the past 2 weeks with the excuse that it was for some celebration or the other... but yesterday under the nose of extremely judgmental bartender, i succumbed to a mango mojito (it was OK) and decided to put the final nail on the coffin of Stupid Pretentious Diet Which Was Never Going to Last, Anyway. yes, yes all of you who've been dyyyying to say "i told you so" can start singing in a chorus. and here i was thinking 28 days couldn't be so bad?! pshaw.
Monday, February 19, 2007
A Few New Friends
While I’ve been carefully navigating the slippery sidewalks lately, the dogs in the hood are having a field day in the snow. What is it about the snow that makes kids, animals and everything in between so playful? In the past 4 months since I moved to my new place, six dogs or 3 different pairs have started to recognize me as I start making these high-pitch squeals (something like “heyyy!”) which turns into a conspiring whisper (something like “yesh yesh, show me ze love”) when I approach them.
The black Labrador pair next door are called Java and Laska, named after the software program and the dog in Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina. Whenever I go over, they come bounding to the door together and compete to see who gets to jump first on top of me. Laska is definitely the tamer one but the minute I start scratching Java’s belly, she’s looking at me with those me-too-please kind of eyes. Soo irresistible :)
Mimi and Gigi are the pair of Scottish terriers who live around the corner from my house and are apparently retired show dogs. They still seem to be very obedient and don’t even require leashes when they go out for their walks. And having to live up to their French names and fine pedigree, they like to waltz around wearing these fine looking highland coats, too! Gigi is getting on with age and doesn’t care too much for socializing. But when Mimi comes over to sniff and say hi, Gigi will slowly hobble over to see what the fuss is about.
Recently I’ve started seeing a lot of Duncan and Macduff, west highland white terriers or more commonly known as westies (as shown in picture). The pair of them – named after the characters in Macbeth – love frolicking around in the snow and Duncan is the more excitable of the two. The other day he just hopped up to lick my face, snow and all. Macduff sniffed around my boots for a bit before looking up to declare “hmm, you’re not so bad.” I scratched his neck to show my gratitude and silently prayed my dog back in Delhi was not shooting telepathic rays of utter disdain and contempt.
The black Labrador pair next door are called Java and Laska, named after the software program and the dog in Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina. Whenever I go over, they come bounding to the door together and compete to see who gets to jump first on top of me. Laska is definitely the tamer one but the minute I start scratching Java’s belly, she’s looking at me with those me-too-please kind of eyes. Soo irresistible :)
Mimi and Gigi are the pair of Scottish terriers who live around the corner from my house and are apparently retired show dogs. They still seem to be very obedient and don’t even require leashes when they go out for their walks. And having to live up to their French names and fine pedigree, they like to waltz around wearing these fine looking highland coats, too! Gigi is getting on with age and doesn’t care too much for socializing. But when Mimi comes over to sniff and say hi, Gigi will slowly hobble over to see what the fuss is about.
Recently I’ve started seeing a lot of Duncan and Macduff, west highland white terriers or more commonly known as westies (as shown in picture). The pair of them – named after the characters in Macbeth – love frolicking around in the snow and Duncan is the more excitable of the two. The other day he just hopped up to lick my face, snow and all. Macduff sniffed around my boots for a bit before looking up to declare “hmm, you’re not so bad.” I scratched his neck to show my gratitude and silently prayed my dog back in Delhi was not shooting telepathic rays of utter disdain and contempt.
Friday, February 16, 2007
Post-V-Day Thoughts
That's the pink and teddy bear saccharine-infested manufactured holiday that's stuffed down everyone's throats by the card companies and not the World War II commeration i'm talking about. everyone's feeling some sort of pressure (overtly or otherwise) to do something. quite unfair given the fact that christmas and new year's just happened and come on, do you really need an excuse to buy chocolates?? hell no. well, since i spread the love so generously throughout the rest of the year, i randomly picked on some other emotion... such as total indifference. haha!
i decided to trudge to work in a miniature snow storm that hit the region. in case you didn't know, DC-area commuters are weather wussies. there's a little rain and people forget how to drive. there's some 2 inches of snow and it's a federal holiday. not that i mind! :) but there were like 6 people who made it in and we had a pizza party. a colleague's husband sends these huge long-stemmed roses to work every year. and every year she sighs, "when will he learn that tulips are my favourite?" and passes the hershey's chocolate kisses on to us.
later on at night, i'm at Union Station and this woman is walking down the hallway and yelling -or screaming like a banshee - into her phone, "you bastard, you can't do this to me! i can't believe this." her hair is totally disheveled, she's pacing up and down and she looks like she is going to throw the phone at someone or do something really, really bad. so psycho and so scary. "i'm going nuts!! i don't know what i'm going to do!!" she's still yelling. a lot of people stop dead in their tracks to get out of her way, but someone starts laughing at her. i mean this woman was clearly a mental case. and getting dumped by some jerk. on valentine's day. over the phone. the phone???! have a heart... and how pathetic.
On a lighter note, check this out. A math formula for the perfect parrallel dating scene. don't some of you do this already? Thanks, Chhav :D
i decided to trudge to work in a miniature snow storm that hit the region. in case you didn't know, DC-area commuters are weather wussies. there's a little rain and people forget how to drive. there's some 2 inches of snow and it's a federal holiday. not that i mind! :) but there were like 6 people who made it in and we had a pizza party. a colleague's husband sends these huge long-stemmed roses to work every year. and every year she sighs, "when will he learn that tulips are my favourite?" and passes the hershey's chocolate kisses on to us.
later on at night, i'm at Union Station and this woman is walking down the hallway and yelling -or screaming like a banshee - into her phone, "you bastard, you can't do this to me! i can't believe this." her hair is totally disheveled, she's pacing up and down and she looks like she is going to throw the phone at someone or do something really, really bad. so psycho and so scary. "i'm going nuts!! i don't know what i'm going to do!!" she's still yelling. a lot of people stop dead in their tracks to get out of her way, but someone starts laughing at her. i mean this woman was clearly a mental case. and getting dumped by some jerk. on valentine's day. over the phone. the phone???! have a heart... and how pathetic.
On a lighter note, check this out. A math formula for the perfect parrallel dating scene. don't some of you do this already? Thanks, Chhav :D
Monday, February 12, 2007
Butt Fatigue and Other Tales
First off, this is going to be a long, but fairly entertaining post considering it was a weekend of many firsts. So brace yourself :)
We were celebrating the birthday of another friend who has joined the ranks of the fabulous Thirty Decade. So in the afternoon, 5 of us girls kidnapped her from home (covering face with ski mask et al) and took her roller skating. It was quite an adventure. The Skate-and-Fun Zone is around 45 mins. outside of DC in a town called Manassas. Naturally it was full of suburban mom and dads with their screaming little tykes rolling around in skates to the cheerful tunes of Who Let the Dogs Out? Surprisingly, the DJ refused to play even the clean version of 50 Cent’s In Da Club, but he was fine spinning “clean songs” like Tempted to Touch, Naughty Girl and the redneck anthem Sweet Home Alabama. Surrounding the rink were gumball machines, a laser tag room, a pizza joint, and just a lot of cheerful and colorful stuff. Did I mention the strobe lights and fog machine? It was like being transported back to your childhood… which was the entire purpose of taking our friend there. I got my pair of rollerskates and bravely entered the rink. Unlike ice skating rinks, this rink did not have a fence surrounding the entire periphery. My friends tried helping me a bit before I fell on my butt for the first time. But kids were falling all over the place like flies – there was no reason I couldn’t do the same, so no fear. Two more butt falls happened, but after a pizza break, I got much better. Like ice skating, I learnt the trick to keep my balance and keep moving… just don’t look down all the time!!
The birthday celebrations continued in the evening with a sumptuous Indian dinner at Heritage. There was too much wastage of food since it was a pre-fixed menu. I also made an exception to my no-alcohol diet and had a glass of red wine. I didn’t drink anything else after that. Then we moved the party to a club called Andalu, also in the Dupont Circle area. The music was pretty decent and we all had a great time dancing. I don’t know at what point the boredom seeped in. I turned to a friend and said, “I think I want to hook up with a random stranger.” And I did. Some desi dude (and it's not that i was looking for a desi in particular, he just looked as bored) was hovering around and we started dancing. He tried to make conversation but I wasn’t obliging. “What’s your name?” he asked. “Doesn’t matter. Any name you want it to be,” I said. Really, there was no point in talking. Then suddenly another girl wanted to dance with him. He clutched my hand tightly – don’t go yet. Err.. ok, so what am I supposed to do? The girl turns to me and says, “You know, he’s a total whore.” I was amused and touched his six-pack. “Of course, he is.” But then she starts dancing with me… nothing wrong with that, it was nice music until whoa! she touches my butt. Umm, thanks but no thanks. I excused myself to go to the bar. Suddenly, six-pack guy grabs my hand, pulls my face towards him and before I knew it, there I was making out with him as my friends watched in shock and awe. As I came up for air, he said, “You must be a Punjabi.” But for a Punjabi himself, he did these weird Karate Kid-type dance moves. Also he thought he was being funny by saying he worked at a 7-11 and his wife (i know, what???) was waiting for him at home. “Goodbye, have a nice life and oh… keep working on those pecs,” I said. We ended up exchanging digits, but he blew it when he asked, “Is your name Deepali?” I stared. “Something like that.” Not that i was planning on marrying him anyway!
So first time 1) rollerskating 2) got hit on by a girl and guy simultaneously and 3) made out with someone without the influence of alcohol in a public place.
We were celebrating the birthday of another friend who has joined the ranks of the fabulous Thirty Decade. So in the afternoon, 5 of us girls kidnapped her from home (covering face with ski mask et al) and took her roller skating. It was quite an adventure. The Skate-and-Fun Zone is around 45 mins. outside of DC in a town called Manassas. Naturally it was full of suburban mom and dads with their screaming little tykes rolling around in skates to the cheerful tunes of Who Let the Dogs Out? Surprisingly, the DJ refused to play even the clean version of 50 Cent’s In Da Club, but he was fine spinning “clean songs” like Tempted to Touch, Naughty Girl and the redneck anthem Sweet Home Alabama. Surrounding the rink were gumball machines, a laser tag room, a pizza joint, and just a lot of cheerful and colorful stuff. Did I mention the strobe lights and fog machine? It was like being transported back to your childhood… which was the entire purpose of taking our friend there. I got my pair of rollerskates and bravely entered the rink. Unlike ice skating rinks, this rink did not have a fence surrounding the entire periphery. My friends tried helping me a bit before I fell on my butt for the first time. But kids were falling all over the place like flies – there was no reason I couldn’t do the same, so no fear. Two more butt falls happened, but after a pizza break, I got much better. Like ice skating, I learnt the trick to keep my balance and keep moving… just don’t look down all the time!!
The birthday celebrations continued in the evening with a sumptuous Indian dinner at Heritage. There was too much wastage of food since it was a pre-fixed menu. I also made an exception to my no-alcohol diet and had a glass of red wine. I didn’t drink anything else after that. Then we moved the party to a club called Andalu, also in the Dupont Circle area. The music was pretty decent and we all had a great time dancing. I don’t know at what point the boredom seeped in. I turned to a friend and said, “I think I want to hook up with a random stranger.” And I did. Some desi dude (and it's not that i was looking for a desi in particular, he just looked as bored) was hovering around and we started dancing. He tried to make conversation but I wasn’t obliging. “What’s your name?” he asked. “Doesn’t matter. Any name you want it to be,” I said. Really, there was no point in talking. Then suddenly another girl wanted to dance with him. He clutched my hand tightly – don’t go yet. Err.. ok, so what am I supposed to do? The girl turns to me and says, “You know, he’s a total whore.” I was amused and touched his six-pack. “Of course, he is.” But then she starts dancing with me… nothing wrong with that, it was nice music until whoa! she touches my butt. Umm, thanks but no thanks. I excused myself to go to the bar. Suddenly, six-pack guy grabs my hand, pulls my face towards him and before I knew it, there I was making out with him as my friends watched in shock and awe. As I came up for air, he said, “You must be a Punjabi.” But for a Punjabi himself, he did these weird Karate Kid-type dance moves. Also he thought he was being funny by saying he worked at a 7-11 and his wife (i know, what???) was waiting for him at home. “Goodbye, have a nice life and oh… keep working on those pecs,” I said. We ended up exchanging digits, but he blew it when he asked, “Is your name Deepali?” I stared. “Something like that.” Not that i was planning on marrying him anyway!
So first time 1) rollerskating 2) got hit on by a girl and guy simultaneously and 3) made out with someone without the influence of alcohol in a public place.
Thursday, February 08, 2007
Famous Last Words
My new diet may have already come to an end. I was at Sash's place for dinner last night. There were candles, nice wine, great music, and the smell of tender lamb shanks cooking happily - but ever so slowly - in the oven. Sash and Denn (pls bear with the 4-letter names now) did a brilliant job of feeding their friends... of whom, i have to add, were 2 other couples, besides me. apparently the 6th guest was m.i.a. so of course i had to fight off Bridgetty feelings before it hit me they were not a) smug marrieds and b) did not in the least bit make me feel like a loony singleton who did not partake in drinking alchohol. speaking of which, i started off drinking Coke and then at some point i was informed it had been spiked with vodka!! it could have been a convenient deviation of topic - from dogs and all things wonderful related to them - or it could have actually been done. whatever the case, i knew something was odd. but i think i'll try to continue this endeavour for as long as i can... only 3 more weeks till the end of the month!!
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