azo-holes!!
oooooooooh - again whinging about the blood-fest that my work-life is becoming. Turns out some patches on a giant sweater has some 600mg in a kg on some bdi-cholo-something-uncleaunty-amine. and now they ish torturing me with plans of giant claims!!! not clams, claims - ick!! i get slightly nauseous when i think about it and have been using that excuse to collapse on my sofa every night instead of lacing up my sneaker and going for a get-ready-to-party-in-december-so-start-getting-skinny-run.
So, anyway focus on fun fun stuff this weekend.
Sunday night was sushi nite: We went to wasabi - (pic in a bit) - and i diligently took pix of all the food becos you know - we are never going back there again. I mean i love the husband and all - but so many buckeroos on stuff that only lasts 1 night - or in case of my husbands a couple of hours becos the swine ran to the loo to poop when we got home - which is terribly wrong. He had strict instructions to absorb every nutrient because the nutrients were like imported and super-duper expensive. Enthu ctlets that we were, we went the whole cod and gotted rock shrimp tempura, cod in miso, salmon teriyaki, lots of sashimi and sushirolls - sigh!!! I shall now live on the memories of that dinner - unless i can con some rich guys into taking me there again. Hopefully they being the husbands of good friends, so dont have to put up with the sweaty palm variety that tried to pick me up at the Tsar bar couple of weekends ago.
Saturday night was Harry Potter & Goblet of Fire nite - which is such a diluted, not-making sense version of LOTR!!! sorry all the hari puttar fans but i dont get it. Glad i didnt bother with the book. Young boy has some contest to win - so does some fancy flying, defeats dragons, goes to prom with desi chicks in bizarre lehengas - i mean yes, we know they are desi, but even desis would not wear ghagras to the prom???, goes underwater and grows fins, rescues opposing team sister, runs through scary maze to get prize-winning cup. Suddenly enters another dimension where he comes face to face with not-so-scary-dark-lord. Has some silly wand-dandiya with dark-lord, gets dead parents to give him advice on escaping, escapes - comes back to wierd school, finds out his professor is bad-guy, gets rescued by principal at last minute, and then they all break for summer holidays. I mean commooon!!! Even the pop-corn wasnt so nice. And the nachos sucked - no cheeze on top.
FRiday nite was another bizarro nite - we hit bar-nite which was strangely deserted and i twisted my ankle, then we went to indigo, where i did some socialtalks with frend of husbands who must think i am totally bizarre becos i started showing him pix of the miaows (again to be uploaded soon) and then crashed insomnia at the taj - by the time i got back home, i was thinking i need to get on some youth hormones, becos i do feel too old for this kind of insane-place-is-shutting-tomorrow-nite style partying. You think the husband may be influencing me in subtle ways???
I am thinking that not only should vacations-to-recover-from vacations be de-riguer (Especially if the vacatiosn involve the don, the rockstar and belvedere, and hot djs) but also weekends-to-recover-from-weekends!!! This girl-dating is getting very heavy and intense - i just may be in a relationship.
Free stuff!!!
I am such a sucker for free stuff - watch me as I get all giddy with a 250rs off on a single item at the Mango store - got my eye on this sexy jingly belt which is probably like many-000buckeroos but no, i shall buy becos i get 250rs off. I am also btw a total sucker for all the marketing where they say I am a dear favoured customer.... I mean really you have me at 20%discount!!!
So, it did not take much to excite me when I was making a resrevation at the fancy-schancy Middle-eastern restuarant at the Taj for dinner with husband and
Lulu .
The reservation conversation went like this:
Posh voice at other end: was all like oh, is there any special occassion??
Me (in oretend-posh voice, still not having gotten around to having nice manicure and ergo not feeling very BBCish) yes, it's my husband's birthday
Ha, now I know that you get free stuff on birthdays and anniversaries. I got free dessert last year at wasabi because it was our happy wedding anniversary.
So, we went to Souk and ordered some mezze - which is really exotic baby-food. everything is pureed to a nice pulpy garlicky paste. Then on advise of the Os, I recommended lamb chops to Husband and Lulu and I decided to have a vegeterian tagine... which was stupid because the middle-east is not known for veggies except for bloody chick-peas (which is really chole in english) so i lusted after the husband's lamb-chops and sneaked in two bites while he was distracted by the pretty birdy in fake-chanel. To help move this veggy stuff along, Lulu ordered a wonderful apple flavoured hookah - and then we had some nice moroccan tea. Luckily there were no aggressive belly-dancers like at Maroush, the other mid-east specialty retaurant at the far-suburbs in the Sheraton. And then and then TADAHHHH!!!! arrive' the cake at the stroke of mid-night. So we sang happy birday to husband with much flamboyance and fan-fare (to make it belivable) - yummy honey-nut nougat.
heheheh, and it is really being his birday this sunday heheheh - I beat the system. So, we are going to wasabi and gorging on sushi and more free bday cake and hope teh kitchens dont talk.
happy day!!
yay!!! having people visit and shop shoes at my fave shoe store pays off - they all leave my name and i gotted loyalty program card and now i have 20%discount coupon!!! YAY!!! strappy patent leather black wedge heels here i come....
now i only need a bag to go with it....
and maybe a s&m type sexy leather trim top or something hmmm....
and also more appropriate jeans which convey mean lean yet sexy feminine...
oh, and also a pedicure
Duck!!!
I promised I will never talk about my workstuf, because it just makes me feel so whiny and self-pitying.
I have recently received a 'strongly-worded' e-mail from an agent, accusing me of being unprofessional. GASP!!! me, the fabulous knitting girl and domstic goddess, vicked vixen - unprofessional in any field??? And as I stare at my cell-phone display which shows 2 missed calls (and thats just today, it does not count all the missed calls over the last three weeks) I have to force myself to face up to this issue well, internally. I am still not taking the calls.
The case is actually last year's issue where we shipped goods and there was a problem and a small claim which we settled and now the buyer went all oh, btw please also to be paying us fedex charges - and i am like WHAAAAAAAAAAAAT!!! Why? you have already s tuck me with a claim for goods that were only partially damaged which I paid. So now I dont wanna deal with this right now - so i am sortof metaphorically ducking my head down and living in denial. I know - I suck!!! And yes, it feels kind of not quite the correct thing to do. But I do know that I have done nothing wrong - so till the other party realises that too, I just have to keep my head down and be all tigger-like. Which is pretending the giant moth doesnt exist because I cant see it anymore.
Dinner and a movie
Went on hot dates with husband this weekend – Saturday night, we got all dressed up and by dressed up we mean sniffed matching orange polo-t-shirts to make sure they are not too unclean, sprayed on lots of deo, ran the lint brush once through jeans to wipe away 30% cat-hair… because it never ever really leaves you, you know (ask Stupendous, she once took back cat hair to delhi on clothes she hadn’t even worn in Bombay) and stepped out of the apartment with a chapatti-egg-roll for the road.
Destination: TAXI…. Yes, we went to a restuarant called TAXi, no we were not taking mode of transportation called TAXI.
TAXI is housed in a beautiful ancient building called Jony Castle on Wodehouse road (if it has now been named after some arbit maharashtrian son of the soil, I will have to check with the BEST that haunts that route – they are the only ones that know the new names). It has these gorgeous high high, I think 12feet high ceilings in teak. And it had stucco finished walls (on closer examination of my architectural knowledge, it turns out that I don’t exactly know what stucco is, but it sounds like what the walls look).
And pretentious art: Left wall – twin graphic paintings – right hand painting has a embroyonic baby in multi-coloured womb, which is floating on a galaxy far far away, depicted by stars which woosh into left hand painting with benevolent smily-face sun overlooking all this. I name it Divine Intervention.
Pretentious art on right wall: Blue people on red backgrounds with little whirly triangle at their feet. I do belive, their value would have appreciated if it wasn’t a dry day.
The appetizer we ordered was golden fried Brie – with strawberry-brandy compote – which was deeliciux – but the strawberry compote could have done with more brandy.
Entrees – I ordered Moussaka of garden roasted veg with a pesto & husband asked for a Balinese curry with lemon rice.
My moussaka was disappointing – I have had lamb moussake and expected something similar – instead it was more like paneer shashlik with red&yelw peppers – why do pretentious restaurants atleast expand to other pretensious veggies like zuccini and eggplant – both veggies I love grilled and never make at chez nous, since I don’t have a grill pan (which reminds me, have to tell cousin what kind of grill pan I need).
Husband’s Baliniese curry was as expected coconutty with a nice star-anisey flavour and loaded with veggies. The Lemon rice was also nice – though of course,
Husband: (in whiny tone): This is not Balinese enough
Me: And what exactly do you mean by Balinese?
Husband: Well, isn’t Bali in Tahiti???
Me: !!!!!!!!!!!! It’s lucky you were not appointed to be the suicide bomber at the Marriot in Bali. You would have really bothered some bare-breasted women and Marlon Brando’s love-children.
(asif Husband seems to know what Polynesian food should be like, because apparently before it was India Jones, the right-hand basement of the Oberoi hotels was the Outrigger)
Sunday morning, Husband dashed out to indulge me in more decadences – I had yuummmy samosa-pav for brekkers (I say, if it is not an hour that I would normally be awake, like 9.30am on a Sunday morning, the calories don’t count).
Then, we poor misguided fools who believe everything the posters tell us, went to see the Diwali super-hit GARAM MASALA.
Oooooooooh, very bad. Saw it at INOX – this horrendous, over-priced, over-staffed multiplex with silver sun metal etchings. Oh, oh – also, very over-loud and over-bassed.
Ok, now this movie has no plot, so we shall take it scenebyscene:
Openeing Scene: So, the movie starts with John & Akkibaby taking pictures of east-european bimbettes in very scanty clothing for a magazine called GARAM MASALA. (Now if I ever saw a magazine named that, I would request that it be put right next to those sleazy magazines that pretend to be trade rags like Lace&Lingerie – has anyone ever seen that magazine at the western railway platforms?? I don’t think they seel this lace&lingerie anywhere else – why would a trade magazine be available on western railway platforms?)
The Garam Masala title song is playing in back-ground this whole time.
Scene2: Neha Dhupia is sexy secretary with glasses who both men, photographers at magazine Garam-Masala, take out on date. Their wallets are pick-pocketed and they trip old waiter over three times trying to sneak away and then stick the sexy secretary with bill.
Scene3: There is some photography contest, which John wins by stealing some negatives of old photographer fallen o hard times, willing to sell prize-winning picture negative to John. The magazine wins 1crore as award. (What is this the Nobel prize in photography???) The magazine generously send John away to America for 1 month free holiday. Neha Dhupia the sexy secretary gets very excited by all this and bursts into very badly lipsynched song in garish red beaded corset and cheap garish red skirt. Akkibaby is very upset that his assistant won and tears sexy secretary skirt mid-song, but it doesn’t matter because Neha Dhupia has never been bothered much by things called clothing earlier, why would she start now????
Scene4: Akkibaby is very upset, so generous manager gives him idea of dating 3 air-hostesses who had different schedules. For this, he manages to get himself a very, very orange apartment – he is the house-sitter, in a very implausible mini-scene by some Indian who thinks Akkibaby has an innocent face. Comedy-injector- Rajpal Yadav, playing alcoholic garage mechanic gets him a cook – Paresh Raval who is Uncle Mambo. Oh, oh, btw – Rimmiii Sen is patient really really dumn doctor-fiancee who never does any doctoring but keeps popping up in white coat over khadi-salwarkameez and stetescope and unwashed sad face.
Scenes 5: Akkibaby does set-up of 3 very big-assed air-hostesses who hopefully will never ever be repated in another movie.
Scene 6-7: I spaced out – maybe there is a loud inane song
Scene 8: John Abraham returns and tries to muscle in on the whole girl-musical-chair-action. One, finally one funny scene where he flatters Uncle Mambo by saying his age must be 30-35.
Paresh Raval responds saying: well, if u take out Sundays and public holidays, yes it would be close to that.
Scenes 9 – 12: Inane, loud songs with return of the east European women in skimpy clothes and really really bad sets. Loud garish songs interspersed with scenes involiving 3 shrieky air-hostesses.
Scene finally close to the end: Akki realizes mistakes, goes to get aggrieved fiancée from air-port and escapes from wisened up big-assed shreiky air-hostesses.
What really worried me about this movie is whether Virasaat and Hera-Pheri are more true to type, or is this the real Priyadarshan – husband highly recommends they have flexi-pricing according to movie reviews, because I figured that was 75%cost of a bottle of Bacardi (90%at Pinky Wines) totally down the drain. Sigh!!!!
D&P on the radio
I heard a total D&P (thats a Deep & Profound for those of you who are not Fabulous and Stupendous and Don) on the radio
Love is simple
People are complicatedbaack to the grindstone after two rocking holidays - Debauched in Daalhi and Amorous in Alibag!!! to start telling would mean i would never leave. And i hafta, hafta so i can hit the treadmill - penance for all the debauchery!!
Whats on my mind this mid-week:
Currently Lusting: T-strap black patent leather wedge heels at CATWALK - this is what comes from doing good deeds! i had to go shopping for one of my baaast frends who lives the rocking and now wobbly on the 4inch sexy heels at the cobbblestoned lanes on the meatpacking district life.
Currently watching: NADA - the televizion is still unfixed
Currently reading: Tom Sharpe The Midden and also the Mafatlal family saga in the gossys - There is rich-bitch second wife, there is middle-aged man suddenly living high-life after conservative nose to grind-stone there is sex change, there is stolen paintings & heirlooms, ooooooh, juicy cotour got a whole new meaning baby!
I love being back!!! miss the Don and the rockstar tho - i hearts u girls velly velly much.
