Wow, it's been a busy weekend. And as a by-product of this hecticness, I'm feeling immensely tired and immensily run down. More the latter than the former, I would say, because I'm not really that tired, but I do have this overwhelming urge to be cuddled. But if someone was to be the cuddler, I have no doubt I'd immediately burst into tears. I'm weird that way.
Was out at TC last night till four in the morning, with Small and two writer friends. All of us proceeded to get smashed, Small more so than the three of us, but still, we were all like bumping and grinding and generally making spectacles of ourselves. At three thirty, when we were finally kicked out, I noticed my watch was no longer on my wrist and freaked out. Piles of cigarette packets and broken beer bottles were poked through by my rummaging fingers till I was finally dragged away, practically weeping and then, I noticed by the bar, a woman who I had bummed a smoke off of and there it was, at her feet, the strap snapped. I nearly kissed her and the manager and everyone else around me, including a group of very drunk men, singing Hindi songs at the top of their voices. Everyone cheered and patted me on the back and Small and I went home and made ourselves Bournvita. I love TC late at night.
We were also pretty tanked up before we got to TC, thanks to (the very hot) Upamanyu Chatterjee's book launch at the Taj Mansingh. Oh, he is so hot. Oh. And he has the nicest voice all deep and resonant and it sets off little hunter-gatherer instincts in my body, which I'm sorry to say, distracted me terribly from the actual reading. I wasn't the only woman in the audience leching, but. I spotted quite a few with the same expression that I had, head half-tilted, mouth half-open all thinking deeply, "Upamanyu, Upamanyu, take me now!" Grah. How to seduce him?
Anyway, so there was much red wine being passed around, as we huddled close to angheetis and tall heat thingies and ate parmesan squares and I felt very posh. Small, apparently, is quite a celebrity, thanks to this blog, because a girl (who chooses to remain nameless, but hello there, anyway) showed much excitement upon being introduced to her. Small does not like her own pseudonym very much, because she kept going, "I'm not THAT small, I'm not, I'm not!" (But she is.) Oh, speaking of blog celebrity-dom, I must also mention something that made my week, last Sunday, when I was out drinking with friends and a girl came up to me and asked me whether I was indeed the Compulsive Confessor. (Thank you, noble random stranger) This made me most happy, and I instantly launched into Fame, "I'm gonna live forever, I'm gonna learn how to fly, (high!), baby remember my name!" This also made assorted friends make much fun of me, but I don't care coz I got recognised and they hadn't. Hah.
Friday night was spent at the Kiran Desai book launch at the British Council, after which everyone wanted to know where they could go next. "TC?" I suggested hopefully, as I always do, but no one seemed enamoured of that, so then I suggested Drunken Duck, a new pub at Piccadelhi in PVR Plaza. It's very nice and they have a nice live band also, the last time I went, for the opening, the lead singer was very hot. But alas, I suspect, gay, because Damien and I both hit on him, and he hit on Damien. Darn.
But on Friday night, the mic was taken over, first by publishing person, Radha, then her husband, then another writer who was there, while the rest of us clapped or booed wherever it was appropriate. Then Monica produced her Bluffmaster soundtrack and put on Right Here, Right Now and tried to get me to dance with her, only I was feeling shy and only moved my torso around a little bit, before giving up. Oh, also got to hang out with another celebrity blogger, Hurree Babu, who listened with patience and understanding to the sadness that is my love life and was so kind and comforting, my regular confessing became uber confessing and now I'm afraid I will have full body blush next time I see him. :)
While I'm namedropping, I must also mention that I met Chandrahas last night at the book launch, not in Pakistan because of visa issues. Small and I gave him a lift and tried to talk him into coming to TC with us, but despite our batting eyelashes and plaintive appeals, he chose not to. Perhaps we're losing our touch? Hmmm.
As a result of all this activity, no doubt next week is going to be all blah and rundown. Oh, but wait! One of Best Friend In Whole World's happy to you is next week, on Republic Day and so we're going to party. Any thoughts on what to get her? (Dee, look away NOW!)