Margaritas & miaows

The blogger walks again

Its been raining and that is the only excuse I can think of for why the b*****y internet cable modem lines in my office doent work – but today I was at home, cos husband dearest was sick and toshi is also now at home. He has become a gharelu laptop since husband doesn’t have laptop now in new office and I in typical gesture of magnanimity and love offered darling toshi for home use, I cant blog from work anymore – which is a good thing becos I realized I am getting a lot more done now.

The excitement of the engagement and fancy French wine and some really fancy French champagne has worn off – but I am not being party to the wedding shopping which I feel very deprived about considering that nothing I got for my wedding cost more than 15000 and was really looking forward at swishing into tarun and rohits studios (tahiliani and bal, dahling) – because I strongly suspect that the Os know that my bag was bought at a high-street brand ON SALE!!!! And it has ink marks from when I swing my pen all over the place when I am manic exporter at work…. Plus also my hair has not been rebonded yet, but I’m sorry that was only becos the beers looked so lonely in the wine-shop…. I did not have money left over for the hair-straightening lady.

Which is something I have been debating for very long – getting my hair straightened – but then I figure if I stop obsessing about my hair and my weight I may just have to start examining other ares of my life and I don’t want to go there yet….

The wedding is anyway not in GOA – becos Mrs. Khanna objected to Mrs. Kapoor getting a Toyota corolla pick-up from airport to hotel and she only getting a Honda city… and I think they don’t have enough mercs in all of goa to chauffer the entire O gang. Not that they are a gang, they are very refined and elegant and entirely classy big diamonds.

And the baast frend has also got to become refined and elegant and you know not do inelegant things like fall over her shoes while doing the lavani on hip-hop. Which means I have to seriously seriously find interesting safe topics of conversation during dinner with the Os. Cannot to be starting with “oh, you remember that time when the pub threw us out …” or “ remember when we were at the police station…” . To only be discussing nuclear fushion, or very knowledgeably the peacock theme of Prada’s new campaign.. which I bet the Os don’t know about (supercilious hehehehhe with eyebrows arched)

But the upside of all this label horing has been that anything that is not a “label” has been thrown out of the baast frend closet and straight into my waiting unbranded arms – so my haul has been new pair of jeans, 5 sexy tops and 2 hang-ten cargos (south east Asian brands are not really brands that an O wears) and also half-full (see, I’m an optimist) bottle of RL Blue perfume given by ex… apparently no other man’s scent to follow into new marital house and all that…. I am now hoping that PRADA goes out of style, so I can get the new lovely leather bag. (heahhehahehhea – evil laugh)

Aaaaaaaaaaah, dontcha just loooove carat juice and its health benefits??? I’d still take mine with 90ml of Bacardi plis…

posted by Nish @ 3:54 PM