December’s already been quite packed. Distractions of the social-vodka sort became an everyday thing last week. Not quite party-party, but routine sun-down restlessness, together with precise knowledge of happy hours in the city mounted to a sorted state of our daily affairs. When not drinking, Friends in town are a(nother) brilliant reason to up the festivities. Ten thousand instances to write home about: German Christmas bazaar, maniacal shopping, bumping into bloggers – it’s all very bloggable. Except that a daily exchange of some 30-30 para-long mails to an Out of Town boyfriend -- as his gtalk status never fails to drill in -- has been depleting my steady stock of “Oh you know what happened”!
While on bumping into bloggers though, I met Aanchal -- Humphrey Bogart fan and blogger of the lovely headers fame, along with G -- of the (same URL) guest post fame. Good Christmas feel, lots of trinket shopping plus some ATM-trips. Aanchal thought I could've gotten away with paying less for my bought-there-on-the-spot black suede bag, but it's my new security blanket, I'm in love with it and if we bump into each other, please act surprised. Ooh there was mulled wine. Much to my anyway-hungover-from-the-previous-friend's- delight! Divine mulled wine, warm and cinnamon-y... *snaps out of it*, yes moving right along!
I hadn't met Munmunni, pyar se, in a while now. And browsing past jewellery counters at the bazaar, she kept me pelted with priceless little gems of hers. Analysing her relationship out loud, she says: Haan so Abhi's asking me the other day, "what has happened to you??"... And I'm looking at him bl-a-a-nk, wondering what he means... Finally I told him ki look, "nothing has happened to me, I was just behaving myself earlier."
And this was my cue to giggle. More mulled wine, we think. It's not even cold outside.
As we're walking to the parking lot, Mun's on a roll: Just imagine falling for a good looking man, N! What a life. God knows the ok-lookers ones are arrogant enough..."
Meanwhile, I met Manu, my long lost Beavis and biker Butthead rolled into one. This just meant more giggling seizures for me. "You'reee seo khool maaan", he says in one haywire accent, "dragging people out for breakfast".
And more ribbing: " heeyy, you'reee the fursst bloger I've met, mann!"
Dement flashes toothy 32. We're all so full of ourselves. On the same plane though, somehow. I love that. I say shaddap, man. He says no, man, blog about this. I say Dahli-raised Tam Brams who live in France for too long, studying robotics but slimily nursing ambitions to do a doctorate in Bhangra should drink twice as much coffee. He says what? I mimic accent. Drink your coffee, man.
It's the most underrated feeling, this being able to start from where you left off. Like some one's just come back from a trip back from their summer 'hols'. I'm having bizarre days, in an unpredictably good way. Just you reach out for that wood! Lots of trance like shopping, lots of meeting giddy headed friends, lots of birthdays coming up, and not far from the truth: