The butterfly haze

It’s 1.17 a.m. Looks like sleep has deluded me.I’m sleepy, but I’m awake.Like my mind refuses to go to sleep.

I must stop having dark chocolate. It sends sleep flying out of my window. It is times like these that I do the randomest of things.

There are a few beer bottles left over from new years. I’ve been pouring it on my hair ever since. Just before I take bath. It does wonders for my hair, I tell you.

It seemed like such a waste, though. To let my hair drink all of it. I decided I’m going to drink it instead.

I love my alcohol, but when it comes to beer, the mere taste of it makes me want to hurl. I've always wanted to know what the big deal about this golden-brown liquid is, anyway. I closed my eyes and gulped a few sips down.

Alcohol bottles sitting at the back of my closet usually spell trouble. And I’m not the usual sharabi ladki who sneaks bottles in and drinks them at inappropriate hours. It’s a little hard to get rid of these bottles, though. New years left me with a bunch of good memories. Funny, I haven't spoken about it at all.

I like playing hostess. I just get a little worried about calling a bunch of people who have never seen each other, even on Facebook. What’s a host got to do if the guests won’t talk? I wish I was an awkward moment breaker. But in most cases I end up being the creator. I can be socially retarded like that.

As it ends up I’m just one among a lot of other socially awkward beings. I’m not saying all of my friends are like that, I’m just saying I have a few of my kind around. What happens when you put them in one room? You have a party you’re going to remember for a while.

While I’d like to believe I did make a good host, I have random memories of jumping around the house in a pair of grey stockings and yellow bunny rabbit ears. Having friends like these also means you’re allowed to wear whatever the hell you want.

In the bargain, I shamelessly forgot to order food. Or make some for that matter. We survived on Saloni’s pizzas and Avanti’s nutella sandwich.

Sugar rush is an awesome thing I tell you. Especially, if it hits you when you’re already high on alcohol. I was dancing to Sheila ki Jawani at 12 am. Item dancing. The spastic version. The sort when alcohol hits you and your limbs decide to go on a break.

There were conversations. Some emotional, some meaningful and some nonsensical and some downright hilarious. Apparently, there was singing as well. Right before I randomly fell asleep. Will you judge me if I tell you I sang ‘saat samundar par’?

Awesomeness that we are, Shreya and I party crashed as well. In the dead of the night. But we left as soon as we realised a) they were too old for us b) the aunties had too much cellulite on their thighs c) The music they were playing made it seem as if they were welcoming 2006. We slipped out quietly. Coke glasses in our hands. Her's ‘neat’. Mine ‘spiked’.

After all the little adventures, I finally properly fell asleep at 5 am, only to wake up to a happy-yappy me.

It’s going to be a good year. Don't you think so? *grins*

Nonsense. Goddess of Nonsense.

One day before my prelim paper, I bury my notes, hide all of my books and swallow my biting conscience. Why? So I could entertain all seventy five of you. And another 25 odd followers who stalk my blog regularly, but refuse to follow. I decide to spend the 57.23 good minutes of my evening writing a blogpost, and I have absolutely no comments! Zero. Zilch. Shunya. Have you been hit by a bus? Better still, *run over*? Well, if you haven't, I hope you do! All seventy five of you! Grrrrr.

Anyway. There is yet another paper tomorrow and I'm giving into the temptation. Damn you blogspot! I'm going to sue you if I don't do well.

Looks like I forgot to mention Facebook? Oh.my.GOD. One notification after another. One pointless conversation after another. Aaaa! Mental spam.

On top of that, something very amusing I read on Facebook struck me during the paper. Mental giggle fest I went on. That was right before mental giggle fest #2, which happened as a result of a friend mentioning something else that happened on Facebook. All that, while I'm trying to remember answers that I didn't study. Why? Ummm because I was on Facebook.

But for a good two hours yesterday Facebook evaded me. That's when Gtalk stepped in. It's so much better to talk without worrying about the person on the other end dying for a minute or two ever now and then. Apparently, matchmaking is my exam stressbuster. I've been trying very hard to set one of my friends up. Who you may ask? Well, lets call him Champu Scooterwala, a.k.a log mujhe pyaar se Scoooooter bulate hai.

Me: I want to keeeeeeeeel somebody!

Scooter: Who ser?

Me: Well, for starters I could kill you.

Scooter: But, if you kill me what will happen to 'the plan'? (the plan being me setting him up with another friend)

Me: It's a dead plan! You killed it a looooong time ago. You will die a virgin! I promise you.

S: Why sir? :( (yes, he refers to me as sir. He's is very cool like that)

Me: Because you haven't asked her out yet!

S: I will. Give me exactly two weeks, sir.

Me: TWO WEEKS? Omg you need more time?

S: Uh you want to me to ask her out now?

Me: THAT DOESN'T SOUND LIKE A BAD IDEA!

S: But sir! Build up hona chahiya na!

Me: I'LL CREATE THE BUILD UP?

S: No sir! I will.

Me: WHEN?AFTER TWO YEARS?

S: No no! Today!

Me: LIAR!

S: I promise!

Me: Kalank!

S: Arrey! I said na, todaaaay.

Me: Thoooooo!

Very happening life I have.

Anyway, I'm going to go study now.

P.S. I'm going to marry the owner of Theobroma and then have an extramarital affair with owner of Cafe Moshe. Wheeeeeeee!

Jassi Jaisi koi nahin

It's a bright yellow Sunday morning, I'm so giggly, you'll think I'm in one of those Juhi Chawla- Ravina Tandon type movies and a very hairy Sunny Deol/ Anil Kapoor has climbed up my window with love note in one hand and shady red roses in the other. 

But the truth is, Anil Kapoor or no Anil Kapoor, life must go on. Other replacements have been found. And I spend my days showering my affection upon them.

Apparently, sugar can do to me, what alcohol cannot. While most people are ready to take their clothes off after a few shots, I look at them wide eyed, feeling more sane and sober than I ever did, wondering what the hell my body is made of. On the other hand, when I'm high on sugar, the above mentioned giggly-ness happens. Jokes that are otherwise too sidey to be cracked in public are suddenly out in the open. The random urge to break into song and dance takes over. The urge to sing must be resisted as it is hazardous to the mental and physical health of those around. Dance however, can happen in public. In any case, when it is inappropriate to dance in public, I just go to the Ladies room. I actually used to do that in my previous workplace when I was brimming with giggly-ness. Pinky promise. And whatever you do, don't tell this anyone.

So back to my story. Affection is currently being showered upon five grain biscuits. They make my morning coffee so awesome, that I'm on sugar rush all day.

Coming back to tacky movie scenes, I'm having one heck of a movie marathon next weekend with Nautanki, Cow and other such losers. Be jealous ya'll! While you sit in the company of your tables and chairs watching Rajnikant and Govinda movies, I have friends who came out to me about their love for such nonsense. Now that we have formed a tacky movie club, we will never be alone in our endeavors.

I am also going for a play today. I bought these very awesome hippie pants the other day, straight fit with a  bandhini print. While my mum believes that it looks like I have wrapped my legs in a gift wrapping paper, I am convinced these are one of the coolest pants I have ever had. So cool that they have inspired me to go for the play. Today I'm going to wear my glasses, carry a jhola, sip chai, throw fancy words around and discuss the play like I'm some psuedo intellectual. Split personality I have no?

Glasses remind me, the other day I was walking down the street, and these two idiots start poking each others ribs and giggling. Then one of the says 'Jassi jaisi koi nahin'. Such a dirty look I gave him, I swear to god, he peed in his pants.

Then yesterday, I was standing at the bus stop and suddenly it decided to rain. You know it could have waited another five minutes. I would have reached home by then. But no! Since I'm usually too lazy to carry an umbrella, I pulled a newspaper out and kept it on top of my head. Firstly it prevented my hair from getting wet, secondly it made me look all smart and intellectual.

Apparently, a girl with a newspaper on her head is even more amusing than a girl with very huge glasses. All these shady people would stop in front of me for a second, stare with their eyes wide open and try not to giggle. How to live in a city with idiots like these?

Good news is, super awesome cat-eye glasses have found their way into my life. *burst into a very awesome dance routine* Apparently, my mum seems to agree with those who believe in these glasses are absolutely weird and is convinced her daughter will have to resort to shaadi.com if she continues to walk around like that. So while most people hide their lovers/ diaries/ stash of 'pron' from their mothers, I have been hiding my superawesome glasses, lest she gets a heart attack and loses hope even on shaadi.com.

That's all for today sexy people!

I'm going to go fix myself some equally sugary lunch.

Hugs and flying kisses for y'all!