3 August 2015

A new bar, a cat in heat and other life updates from this weekend

I wonder if I should start doing "what I did today" posts again on this blog. Hmm. It would be interesting for ME at any rate, because you know, diaries always are to the person who's writing them, but would you all be terribly bored? Shall we try for like a week?

{Not that my usual day involves anything more exciting than discovering a new TV show or decided I should exercise more and pulling out my old skipping rope, attaching my phone with an audiobook to the speakers and skipping for precisely six minutes before I'm all out of breath and OMG SO MUCH EXERCISE HOW THIN AM I ALREADY!!}

But this weekend was a little more remarkable than most because it was very social. Now, you guys know I LOOOOVE to meet people, but also, in new interesting things I found out about myself thanks to the world of clickbait, I realised I was an introvert. No, seriously. STOP LAUGHING. Here's the thing: I can meet people for three days in a row, but on the fourth day I need to stop seeing anyone for the next few days until I feel completely balanced and full of energy again. I get my energy from being alone and being quiet, and even though I'm outgoing, I'm like that rare zebra-unicorn: an outgoing introvert. Actually, no, I'm sure there's more than just one of us, and maybe it's just an only child thing as opposed to an introvert/extrovert thing, but once I figured this out about myself, I was like, oh that explains EVERYTHING and I no longer feel like I need to apologise for not making plans on days when I have no plans except staying in and feeling myself again.

Eh, maybe not THAT social, just me and 50 getting drinks at one of Delhi's new loves--Delhi has a few new love every month, and this month, it is The Backyard offering competition to old loves Depot 29 and Hungry Monkey, because it is right in their neighbourhood sorta--but it has a nice terrace, and nice margaritas, and all sorts of happy hours, which is also nice. It incentivises me to drink more even though I'm not actually saving THAT much money, so Happy Hours is a nice little scam that we wink at because who doesn't love free booze?

{The Good Thing elected to stay home for the weekend, because of work and other things, and so I was flying solo, if two women in their thirties who drink from eight pm to ten thirty pm and then go home can count as flying solo.} {But listen, this going to bed early and waking up early has some pretty cool advantages despite the fact that I sound like your 80 year old grandmother. I finished a book almost entirely on this new schedule.}

The next day was more 50, as she hosted a brunch in her house, and you guys, I totally rose to the challenge and made caramel bread pudding French toast thing, which is a recipe I adapted from here, except mine was waaaay less posh, using normal Harvest Gold bread and custard powder from the box.  It was still good though. And this one friend of hers brought all this homemade booze, which is totally > any amount of bread pudding with or without the caramel top, and I drank an entire bottle of rhododendron wine, which tastes like boozy Roohafza? Which is luckily, a flavour I happen to like.

And here we are, Monday, Moanday. A friend of mine runs Balcony TV Delhi and is coming over this morning to shoot four videos on our terrace. He's already done a few before, so we're used to the drill, but I should probably shower before he gets here.
Oh, I also drew this comic strip this weekend


Today's also one year since we got Olga into our lives, and she's had this awful last few months (oh, nothing major, just that the vet we took her to to get her spayed botched it up [we chose a cheaper vet, because JAYSUS IT IS TEN THOUSAND rups to get a cat spayed] [then we paid the price for being kanjoos] ANYWAY, so she's still going into heat and yowling and trying to escape and cat susu everywhere, so finally, we're having another surgery done after exploring allllll the other options and this month she should finally be ovary free. ARGH.) But she's still a great cat. Squishy, who has become some sort of cricket ball-headed muscleman follows her around from room to room, his nose like INSIDE her bum, and a great way to get him out of a room is to kick Olga out first and he follows like a shot. (Bruno, the only one with bladder control, is the only one allowed in the bedroom with us at night.)

Anyway. Hello, I guess? Happy Monday! This was raaaather fun, I think I might try it again tomorrow.   


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