> So I had like an epiphanic moment Sunday morning. The night before at this girl's BEAUTIFUL flat--I'm talking huge spaces, marvelous view, pink and red walls, oh, most posh, and of course, I spilt my red wine in the first five minutes--we consumed two and a half bottles of wine (naturally, it was not an Old Monk and Coke sort of house) and mouth red I teetered home and the next morning, I get a call from a friend asking whether I wanted to do lunch and blearily I open my eyes and I'm feeling great. No, more than great, I feel FANTASTIC and full of energy and ready to spend a Sunday about town rather than loll around in bed. No hangover. No dehydration. Red wine is now my new drink. I think I will even have a very posh wine and cheese party soon (although the house smells of kitty litter). At twenty five, I have decided to renounce my college cheap days and embrace being a yuppie.
> Although I find it very hard to make my house look all glamourous. It has the potential, sure, it's a good looking house and it doesn't have much furniture, but as soon as I clean up and scatter candles (well, switch on the lamp at any rate) it gets dirty again. There are still cartons of books that we have no space for occupying floor area in my room, which are now serving as general clean laundry dumping area. And our maids are underworked which means they do the laundry EVERY DAY and so no matter how much I fold there's always more things. It's like that dude with the stone, what was his name? Dionysus? I have to now purchase a nice writing table and a swish bookshelf because my books are stacked on my windowsill and are also in danger of toppling over and smothering me in my sleep. Where can I get nice (and yet cheap) furniture in this city? Anyway, I'm resigning myself to being unposh. Some people are born posh, some have poshness thrust upon them and some achieve poshness. I am secret option d: some people will never ever be posh. My room is a mess, the ashtrays haven't been emptied in forever and there are things everywhere. I can't even blame this on the size of places in Bombay, because my room back in Delhi was exactly the same. "Put some things on the balcony," my mother says and I laugh for quite some time on the phone. Sigh. I miss balconies.
> My love life STINKS. It started out so promisingly and yet now it's all fizzled out. Meh. And you wonder why I don't blog more often. Ooooooh, but Celebrity Date Type Thing (part two: the return) is going to be staged tonight. I wonder what I should wear?
> I went to see Dream Girls yesterday, which was only quite nice. They kept breaking into song, I know it was a musical, but Chicago say or Moulin Rouge had songs I'd like to keep listening to. I even watched Chicago twice. The songs in this were rather boring, and there wasn't much of a plot line except that in the end enemities were resolved and everyone was happy, except for the good guy turned bad. The first half is way better than the second half though. Ooh and it has that American Idol chick, Jennifer Hudson. I love the movies though, and I seldom do it often enough.
> Tourist Season has clearly still not ended. I might as well never have left Delhi at all--only, it's odd, but I spend more time with people when they visit Bombay than I ever did when we both lived in the same city. Now, I've got people visiting over the last two weeks of March, and I just had a friend leave this morning. I'm getting into my stride though, with out of town visitors, the first couple of times I ran myself ragged trying to get optimum use of their time, but now I'm much more chilled about it, going about my life. And also, except for like two people, most of them have other friends in Bombay who they're staying with, so it's much more relaxed for all of us.