Just finished Chitra Divakaruni's (she seems to have dropped the Bannerjee. Ah well. We can't all handle double-barrelled surnames) Queen Of Dreams. Nice enough. Same mother-daughter theme with American Girl Searching For Indian Roots Only Provided By Masala Chai. If that floats your boat, then perhaps you'll enjoy this one.
I also watched the first episode of Miss Match (10 pm, Tuesday, Star World). Alicia Silverstone is very good in it, except have you ever noticed that funny thing she does with her mouth? It sorta goes up at one end and down at another and I've been practising in the mirror, except I look like a rhesus monkey. Alicia Silverstone is not so hot anymore, at least, not as hot as she was in the Crazy video. (I loved that video. And the song. I play it in my car all the time, windows down, yelling, "Girl I know you ain't wearing nothin' underneath that overcoa-oat and it's allllllll a show.")
Nitya's boyfriend is back from sailing the seven seas. (Seriously, he's a sailor). He got her a bottle of Davidoff's Echo and the coolest/kitschiest part of the bottle is that when you take of the cap a little mechanical voice goes, "I love you so much, I love you." I giggled for ages after she showed me that. It smells delish though.
People have been raving about P. Chidambaran for so long, and I never knew what they saw in him. But yesterday, at Soli Sorabjee's budday party I saw him face-to-face and the man is hot. Seriously. Those spectacles, that unassuming air of great intellegence, the lanky body, very nice. I haven't felt this way about a political leader since I.K Gujral, to whom incidentally, when I was 14, I wrote a letter saying, "I think you're doing a fabulous job." He never wrote back though. Humph. When I am Prime Minister, I will reply to all my fan mail.
And my writing sample for college is almost done--and I'm quite pleased with it too. It's come out rather nicely, considering I haven't written fiction in the longest time and I'm a little out of practice. Real life seems to be so much more interesting than fiction these days, don't you think?
Leela and boyfriend have moved into lovely flat in London. At least, she says it's lovely. Lucky thing, to be sitting in London with all those exciting phoren things happening all around her. Though when I went to London I didn't like it very much--it was too cold and too wet and I only had one sweatshirt jacket, so I froze. Paree is much nicer, and warmer and even the truck drivers are hot. And I saw poodles with ribbons in their fur.
Right, now to wrap up writing sample and get dressed pronto for work.