The Bloody Life Lessons Just Keep Coming

What I learnt from this weekend's debauchery:

1. Substitute beer pong for vodka-and-mango-juice pong, and I'm not half bad!

2. Never dance with D when he's had too much to drink...he'll try to kiss anything: me, a grandmother, a man in a dress...as long as it's vaguely female-shaped, it'll do. Blearghhh.

3. Boys are idiots (this is, of course, in direct correlation to Point 2).

4. Tattooed men are yummy (well, I always knew this. But this one I met reminded me of the fact. Kinda Dave Navarro-ish, but less grrr).

5. Apparently, pour enough alcohol in me, and I am capable of doing something I don't normally do...like giving a guy my number when he asks for it. I never do that...bah. No, really, in my world, that's a bad.

6. No amount of alcohol can get me to overcome my inherent and intrinsic grandmotherly traits. So, while I am sloshed, I will be looking after the equally (if not more) sozzled boys: making sure they don't get involved in brawls with white chicks, short guys and bouncers; listening to romantic woes and dispensing advice; pulling up guys' pants when too much underwear (and a bit of butt) is flashing; playing wingman (wing woman? wing person?) when one of the guys finds a hot chick, and in general just being as close to 65 as I can get. Bah again.

7. I am shockingly ignorant when it comes to slang words for male/female genitalia. And also that I'm the only one my age who uses the word 'genitalia'.

8. Jägerbombs basically ensure that I get no sleep for 36 hours.

9. I'm making up for my teetotaling college years by ruining my liver now. Well, no more...detox detox DETOX.

10. And, as you can tell by the last couple of posts, I pretty much swear by Wikipedia.

Jumping On The Bandwagon

It seems every networking site, every blog and, of course, every news site, has fans bidding their own personal farewells to Michael Jackson. I can't say I was a fan of his later work, but I adored every album from "Off The Wall" to "Blood On The Dance Floor:HIStory in the Remix", and the album "Dangerous" was played on constant repeat when I was 11. Don't even get me started on how I'd drive D.S. mad by playing "Give In To Me" a million times over when I was 18 and rediscovered a passion for Michael Jackson/Slash collaboration songs...

Goodbye M.J. May your death be more peaceful than your life. It's been a priviledge and a pleasure rockin' with you all these years.

In other news, Farrah Fawcett finally succumbed to cancer. Poor, beautiful girl...she wasn't my favourite of the original Charlie's Angels...that was always Kelly, who seemed more kick-ass to me. Man, it sucks to wake up from a night of debauchery and read of all these known names dying.

Although, as my friend pointed out with a shrug...why write about this? We're not consciously mourning the other hundreds of thousands dying every day in the world, are we.

Sometimes, I wonder if I'm more of a hypocrite than I like to think about...or just disgustingly shallow.

In The Past 24 Hours, I Have...

....Fought with my Risk Manager;

....Skipped the gym (but I went the day before!);

....Eaten the best pizza EVER, loaded with extra cheese and eggplant and zucchini and roasted chicken and sundried tomatoes, sprinkled with chilli flakes and chilli oil, each mouthful the PERFECT bite...mmmm;

....Witnessed an Indian boy at Karaoke Night, thinking he was black and rapping like Pee Wee Herman just learned to talk street. No...just...NO;

....Lost my temper;

....Been confused;

....Been comforted;

....Had the most inane, insane, evil, chaotic, flat-out-crazy-fun conversations imaginable;

....Received impromptu sex-ed lectures from at least 4 different friends (for no reason whatsoever);

....Hung out with NV and RV, whom I will miss HORRIBLY while they are away;

....Crept into not one, but two shady, seedy, utterly disreputable dance-bar type places and been both scandalized and saddened at human nature;

....Realized that I'm most definitely not cut out for that much-talked-about planned visit to a Vegas strip club;

....Stumbled into bed and stumbled out again after what felt like only 10 seconds but was actually 4 hours (I think I might be getting old. 4 hours of sleep used to tide me over for a WEEK when I was in college);

....Been an unreasonable grouch all day because the restaurant screwed up my order for 6 Cokes by bringing me..erm..NOTHING, so I've had NO sugar and NO caffeine and NO sweet Coke-y goodness and I swear I'm dying....

....Goofed off at work by writing this blog;

....Fought with my Risk Manager.

Don't you love it when life comes full circle?

Staying Out Till 3 a.m....

...when you have to be in at work at 7:45 is NOT a good idea. ARGH with the headache and the bleary eyes and the NO COKE IN MY BAG. Double argh.

I don't even have the energy for exclamation points.

More complaining later.

Father, Forgive Me For I Have Sinned...

....Obviously, by the way my weekends are going, it's not too far a logical leap to say I'm turning into an alcoholic and a compulsive gambler. But, can I just say that kamikazes are the yummiest, most diabolocial things ever invented? Taste like lemonade, but 7 or 8 of them and I'm rendered insensible for the rest of the night...fun! As for the poker...I think I may want to take up permanent residence at A's dining table...won 41 rials (a little over Rs. 5000) and won a hand with 4 Aces...oy, what a rush! Pity the other guy, though, he lost on a full house with Aces and Jacks.

....Got a facebook message from I.P. asking me what's been up, seeing as how he hasn't heard from me in ages. Is it ridiculous to feel a little guilty? I've always been manic about keeping in touch with my B'bay friends, and I just counted back and realized I haven't spoken to him for over 2 months...that's not long in the normal world...but in the cozy, crazy little world I inhabit in B'bay, it's an eternity. Right, making phonecall pronto.

....Crap, just realized I haven't spoken to N.M. in ages either. Crap, crap, crap...feel guilt trip coming on, considering I've been either playing poker, table tennis or just been, you know, flat-out-incoherently-sloshed the last few times he's called.

....Despite the best of intentions, went to the gym only twice in the past week...but it wasn't my fault! The trainer sent out an SMS saying he was sick!! Nevermind that I saw him at a movie on Tuesday night and at the same party I was at on Thursday....

....Will probably end up going only twice this week too, since Mother Nature has seen fit to curse me and actually have my period show up on time for a change. This makes it 2 consecutive months...I don't think that's EVER happened to me. See, this is why my uterus is christened Dorothy....somewhere over the rainbow, indeed.

....I've had Kelly Osbourne's version of "Papa Don't Preach" stuck in my head since morning, and I'm driving my colleagues MAD by belting it out in my can't-carry-a-tune-in-a-bucket voice. God, that's FUN!

Welcome to Hell, Circa 1815

So, having read about this on several blogs recently, I felt I had to spread the word (to all of 2 people who read my blog. But hey, even if those 2 people tell 2 people who tell 2 people...you get the idea). But something has to be done...it's one (horrible) thing to have men hold us down...but a woman aiding and abetting in the suppression of other women? Won't stand for it, just won't.

For anyone who's confused: The Principal of Dayanand Girl's College in Kanpur, India, says this: "Girls who choose to wear jeans will be expelled from the college. This is the only way to stop crime against women."

Might I offer my congratulations to her on the as yet unheard of and unseen levels of idiocy that she has achieved. I would have thought it impossible for anyone to be as obviously blinded by ignorance as she is; but of course she is a living, breathing example of how intelligence can suffer the consequences of too much inbreeding.

And let's just ignore that crime against women occurs in many ways, shapes and forms - all equally insidious and all meant to break a woman's spirit...but then, she should know about breaking spirit; she's undoubtedly one of those people who would say "You got what you deserved" if a molested woman came to her for help.

There's an e-mail address for people to send feedback: contact@dayanandgirlspgcollege.org

Drop the dear lady a few lines and let her know what you think of her edict. I did:

Dear Principal Meeta Jamal,

How can you call yourself a woman and still openly state that the only way to stop crime against women is to suspend the girls who choose to wear jeans to college? Are you honestly telling us - us women who comprise at least half the world's population; who number at least 3 billion; ALL of us who've faced eve-teasing, catcalls, harrassment, lechery and abuse - that we ASKED FOR IT BECAUSE WE WERE WEARING JEANS? I recommend you take a long, hard look at the newspapers. Most of the rape victims in India are actually villagers in saris. Perhaps you feel they would have been "more raped" , if possible, in different attire?

Perhaps you might want to concede to oversimplification of a huge problem, madam. The problem isn't girls who choose to wear jeans or shorts skirts or halter tops - it's the perverted men who have women (!) like you giving them an excuse. Because that's exactly what you've done: given them an opportunity to say "But she was asking for it because of the way she was dressed…even other women admit it." It will undoubtedly boggle my mind until the day I die (and most likely on that day I will be clad in a pair of low-slung jeans) how you got to be principal of a woman's college when that very statement you uttered places you, mentally, nowhere above my uneducated kaamwali-bai who thrashes her daughter for wanting to wear a sleeveless top. You've quite effectively spat on your own gender by making them feel ashamed of something that is no fault of theirs…and here I'm not talking about dressing provocatively or even "going around" with boys (no doubt you also feel that a woman who dates is just a cheap harlot asking to be raped). I'm talking about men's attitudes and disrepect towards women and the suppression of our gender being nurtured for millennia by people too ignorant, too uneducated or too scared to know better. The Women's Lib movement was supposed to take care of that. Congratulations on single-handedly setting it back a few centuries.

I've included my name and very sweetly decided to forego a few choice epithets.

Honestly, she should resign. And have a sex-change operation. She's a disgrace.

Things I Realized In The Past Week

So the last week has been an eye-opener for me. The earth-shattering (okay, I'm prone to exaggeration) revelations just kept coming:

- I went to the gym precisely once during the week. Now, I never worked out when I was younger; didn't start, in fact, till about 2 months ago when A and V practically dragged me kicking and screaming to a circuit training session (and the fact that I had put on 12 kgs had very little to do with it). And now, shock-horror-dismay - I actually like it. And feel guilty when I don't go. I've turned into one of those people. The next thing you know, I'm going to start obsessively worrying after my 4th can of Coke. And laying off the Lindt Hazelnut. Bah.

- I attended a friend's birthday celebration. Queen's cousins and friends planned a surprise gathering at her place; and man was it loud, fun and crazy. I've never hung out with the women of this country very much, but I have got to do it more often... can't think of the last time I had that much fun. Oh yeah, the revelation: nothing really new, but - I miss female company. Good female company, of the non-bitchy-non-whiny-non-complicated variety.

- I met the coolest woman ever. Hello, Standy!

- I suck at beer pong. Like, pathetic does not even begin to cover it.

- I have led a very sheltered life. Okay, not really a revelation there, I kinda knew this. But I was at A's place on Friday and we were winding down post-poker with drinks (and the yummiest, cheesiest, most satisfying food at 3 in the morning - Doon School Maggi noodles...mmm). Listening to A, V and D discuss various drink-and-hormone-fueled escapades made me realize 2 things: I canNOT down vodka and wake up hangover-free; and I have not yet begun to live. Cheers guys, here's to getting out a bit more and being able to contribute to the crazy stories.

- I miss my previous colleagues way more than I thought possible. Dropped in at the old office to wish Queen and met a few of the old work buddies and the old boss for a bit. Felt all warm and fuzzy, in a way I just don't at the new place. Then bumped into S.B. from the old office at Rock Bottom on Thursday night and shared a laugh over Kamikazes. Yeah, there's no one to do that with here.

- I actually miss R, who's away for a while. Was semi-lucidly expostulating to A on Friday that there actually is a biiiig difference between a potential love interest and a best friend (in my books, anyway). R is very firmly in the latter, but that doesn't stop me from missing nice long chats about the Watchmen and Alan Moore and Arthur C. Clarke (and he puts up with my vampire fixation too!)

Let's see what this week brings. With V in town for a fortnight, and NV and RV here for a while, it's bound to involve copious amounts of alcohol, at the very least. Better hit the gym again...

...My morning Coke can looks like it's frowning disapprovingly at me. Sigh.

Ego Trippin'

Do you ever wonder how you have the courage/will/patience (insert as applicable)

… to fall in love again after being so badly burned?
… to send that MBA application in one more time after being rejected for the last 2 years?
… to trust a new friend, when the last person you trusted blabbed everything?
… to wake up thinking that today will be better than yesterday, and tomorrow better still (because it can't be any worse)?
… to allow yourself to look forward to that phone call that always seems to come a little too late?
… to be coldly sarcastic with your Risk Manager, rather than slamming the stack of proposals down on his oily head?

Sometimes I think I'm going to let my ego get the better of me and buy one of those 'Supergirl' coffee mugs.

I don't drink coffee, but that's not the point :)

The Beauty and The Prick

One of my best friends, D.S., is this beautiful, amazing, kick-ass, intelligent and fascinating woman (and if I sound like a girl with a crush here, bear with me, I love the chick) and yet she still manages to get dicked over by a guy who's so blatantly not worth it that it boggles the mind.

What pisses me (and our other friends back in B'bay) off is that we should've SEEN it somehow…instinctively just known that he was an idiot. Where was my cynicism? Where was N.M.'s go-slow-approach? Where was A.H.'s caution and sixth sense? But no, when we met him, we were ALL taken in by the niceness, the goofy sense of humour, the effort (endearing) to get on our good side because D.S. is important to us, and we're important to her, no negotiations there. One of our own had found love, found someone who could be an extenstion to our group, instead of taking her away from us. So we tried, and he tried, and we all got along and cue the Disney happy-ever-after music, yes? No. After 3 years of togetherness and overcoming parental objections and age differences and insurmountable odds and discussions of marriage, it goes like this: The Prick ends it with a phone call, announces his engagement to someone else on facebook, and D.S. is…actually, D.S. is being stronger than I would ever have thought possible.

I think this post is going to be in honour of D.S. actually - I don’t think I talk enough about my friends, just blather on about myself. But I love showing off about D.S. When she got a 730 on her GMAT and got into one of the best B-Schools in the world, I couldn’t wait to tell EVERYONE…I'm so proud of her! She's lost over 20 kgs of weight over the past few years through sheer determination and (in my lazy-ass opinion) an unhealthy commitment to the gym; as a result she looks sensational in the black wrap dress I saw her in last weekend. She's topped most of the exams she's ever written, or at least cleared them with flying colours (and I always wondered what that meant. What do colours flying have to do with exam marks?). She's witty and incisive and funny and snarky and has men drooling like puppy dogs at her stiletto-heeled feet. And, as I said before, she's incredibly, unbelievably strong.

This is a woman who was there for me when I went through a hideously bad break-up. She cried for me because I couldn't (or didn't know how to, or wouldn't give the guy the satisfaction of seeing me) cry. She went out partying with me pretty much every night of the week if I wanted to (because loud music meant neither she nor I would think about how me breaking up with my boyfriend irrationally led to her losing one of her good friends too). She let me hold her hand in a death-grip when I saw my ex with another woman, basically confirming everything I'd worried/feared/grown paranoid about for 3 years (makes me wonder if 3 is some sort of ill omen…I know of waaaaaay too many relationships going kaput at the 3-year mark. Actually, thanks to her, H.T., N.M. and A.H., I think I managed to get through the whole post-break-up period relatively unscathed and have turned out as normal as I am right now (which most people will testify isn’t much!) Coincidentally, H.T., N.M. and A.H. were there for her too after The Prick ended things with her. We love you guys, have we ever said that?) This is a woman who polished off an entire saucepan of rasperry-jello-and-apple-vodka (we were trying to make jello shots, but there were no ice trays) with me while we watched 'The Grudge' at A.H.'s place in Pune, and then fell about laughing with me 'cuz I wouldn't go to the bathroom alone. Hell, she's put up with my vampire and Coke addiction for 8 years now, and that drives most people insane!

I'm rambling….I tend to do that when I feel strongly about something. What I'm trying to say is this: I need her to read this and know, know with absolute certainty, that there are people who love her, and there will be people who will see her for how truly sensational she is. People so far better than The Prick that it will boggle her mind, because she will wonder at the 3 years she absolutely wasted on him when there was something so much better out there. And until then, if she insists on being too big a person to hate The Prick....

...I'll do it for her.