life like I know it ...

.... SUCKS !

what scares me is ...

this time lil' parts of me didn't die. Have I become this cold, is so much within me dead already or have I just evolved into one of those people that handle disappointments this well.

Bah.

I still did listen to the my heart break music though, well, if that counts for something.

Dear Blog ...

....  I may be cheating on you. Just thought I should let you know !

Love.

R

Dear God, you do know there's only so much saying-it-aloud-to-myself that I can do. If I am really nice person and deserve better and will get a much nicer, better person & all of that, perhaps we could work at that a little faster. Maybe?

Pretty please with a cherry on top.

And yes, thank you for all those gorgeous leads on the shoes. Loving it.

like OMFG !

I am 28.

- SHRIEK -

ummm

It was about fighting em demons tonight. You know, you're 27, all your friends are married, some marry people you like, some marry weird people. Some you just love and some you just cannot stand, your best friend, he marries a cow. People have plans and they're all in pairs. You are single and well, you have no one to hang with. You have not been on a single date in 2010, but you're oversexed. Life goes on. It's a Saturday night, but you got home at 4.00 am last night and you did absolutely nothing today. You tell yourself, you should stay in. Besides I mean, you're kinda fat to be seen in public. Yes, you're eating right or at least trying to but the cheesecake bites and the chocolate cake there after you devoured are not helping. And all those promises to yourself, of running every morning and still empty.

So yes. Demons. Fighting them. You have Tata sky plus, life is more than jing-a-la-la. Movies have been recoded and remember the strand book fair purchases? There's woody allen, haruki murakami, 100 shitty jobs and how to land them, salman rushdie and not to forget milan kundera waiting to accompany you to bed. You're gonna do it.

Start Music :- Demon Fighting [sing in kung fu fighting tone please]

Then as the clock strikes 11:00, you step out. Drive. Spot the store you're looking for. You step out. You walk. You suck your tummy in because a cute boy smoking a cigarette  [harmful to health since you gave up smoking] in a black honda civic can see you walk. You can't really see him, you just assume he's cute. You walk up and you buy that bottle of wine. Chenin Blanc. Yes, you wanted the Sauvignon Blanc, but it's not chilled.

You come home. The bar is locked because the domestic help devours a shot or ten from time to time. You contemplate drinking wine in your funky street chai glasses, with colored motifs. But you remember using them as tea light holders. You remove the glass in which you have luke warm water with an entire lemon squeeze and two spoons of honey. You remember, you didn't drink that today. You promise to tomorrow. Half a bottle disappears into that glass. Chotu, the domestic help looks at you. You smile at him. You wonder if he'll sneak in a sip or two when you go upstairs.

You come into your room. You drink. You watch Vicky Christina Barcelona. You really really long to go to spain. But then, you really really long to go anywhere. You want to be like woody allen. Miss your wayfarers that folded, but broke. You miss your trip to bangkok.

The wine is nice. It makes you feel light.

You wonder if it's alcoholism, to even consider drinking all alone. You spot neel on facebook chat. You ask him, he says no, but it is most certainly a sign on loneliness he says. Whatever, chewt. He asks you to fly to U.S so you can drink together. You like the sound of that.

Glass over.

You contemplate another glass. The other half of the bottle. You're nice and happy.

You google " should I be concerned if I finished off an entire bottle of wine by myself ? "

The response is mixed. Whatever. Stupid Google.It says, it's okay when it's not done very often. There, that's comforting.Then you remember that you helped K polish of a bottle the previous night. So, that's half-a-bottle. But that doesn't make you a drunk. The 24 shots of whatever-it-was on your birthday night, yes, that was alcoholism. Endless number of watermelon martini's in Goa, yes that was alcoholism. You wonder if they renamed the drink after you. They ought to have.

You stop blogging. You go down for a refill. There's a lizard, you say hello. Generally, you'd run. You're petrified of them, but no, not tonight. Surprise surprise, the second glass does not equate to an empty bottle. You're not as "light" anymore. You wonder if the wine will leave you with a headache the next morning.

Large sip. Yes, you know there are bigger problems at hand and you must return to them. You decide to go back to vicky, chritina & barcelona.

Sir demon, brace yourself, I am coming again. You giggle, you said cumming.

End Music :- Demon Fighting. [sung in kung fu fighting tone]

it's one of those moments

when I want to curl up and vanish, only the flabs of fat on my stomach hurt when I attempt to do so. I am telling you, this lack of flexibility and fat issues won't even let me die in peace.

Now that I am done with the drama and feel .0000021% better about venting my frustrations to no one [I mean who reads this blog] I shall vent some more. I may have lost my wonderful sisley chino's that I bought two days ago, because I cannot seem to find the bag and I won't find out until tuesfuckingday because my driver is on leave tomorrow and there is no way to know where the bag went. Slight nagging feeling tells me I may left it at the Molton Brown counter where lady ahead of me shopped for 28,000/-. [yes, I had to just mention that] and when I saw her filling out some random form, she was the wife of a  certain very much in demand Indian contemporary artist. That explains the bundles she had oozing out of her bag.

I hate being poor & I hate being careless. I mean the two aren't quite a combo you know. I hate not getting to wear fabulous pants I bought [Glad I didn't buy the belt, imagine, losing a fabulous pair of chino's and a belt together, omg {insert horrifying scream}(oooh, brackets inside bracket love happened)]

But then since I am all about positivity these days, I am hoping that my Charlie has kept it somewhere. See p-o-s-i-t-i-v-i-t-y. I mean I will go to the gym soon enough and lose weight and I will move out and I will get more work and I will meet someone fantastic who is gorgeous looking and wears nice shoes and is a size 43 and has nice bags I can use and is the same shirt size as me and a waist 30 [OK, fine 32] and has a love and fascination for fun socks and underwear and reads and talks theater and art in the same breath [I don't do either] and owns art I can borrow for my shoots and gifts me art & shoes & bags & clothes & holidays and wants to buy me everything I lay my eyes on and does not think I am too judgmental for my own good and agrees with me it is okay to have everything I want.

Yes, I am definitely all about positivity.

Btw, how annoying is it when you have waited for something to go on sale FOREVER, I mean like two fucking seasons and then you give up and buy it and then it goes on sale like a week after you have bought it. So then you learn to keep your ego aside and to end the agony, you convince yourself that you must have those fabulous shoes in another color too, I mean why, they are on sale, aren't they ?

Then when you go and ask the sales assistant if he has them in the white he goes "but sir, don't you already have them in two colors?"

I mean what the fuck ? Is everyone on earth dedicated to remind me how I don't need another pair of shoes ?

If the boy wants some shoes, go get him some shoes.

Enough said.

And no, they did not have it in my size.