Just got back from a totally glitterati-infested, high profile social do - the Swarovski- Satya Paul Fashion Show at the Hyatt. I'm like, sooooo in da crowd. or wodeva. Of course, unsociable that I am, had to be dragged kicking and screaming from my comfortable bed to the car by mom. Don't regret it, though. Free booze, chicken teriyaki and lamb satay, and the most unutterably delectable chocolates in the whole world - soul food for the carrot-dipping who's who. Truffle to tiramisu to strawberries and cherries the size of eggs.
Bumped into an old school friend, Brandy. The satay wasn't half bad, but couldn't eat much, because B wouldn't eat anything. So politely stayed away from much food [i.e., post the mandatory 2 helpings] and drank vodka and orange juice. Of course, she doesn't drink either - I don't know what these women live on, I tell ya. Yennyway, I've got to really stop drinking - doesn't agree with my medicines, as the gynaec had indeed warned me it wouldn't. Three drinks do not a headache make. Not with me, at least, really. But now I have a terrible one. I'm not going to drink anymore, honest.
Oh, of course, the clothes were nice. Very nice, in fact, some of them. I liked the white ones - or peachy cream, or whatchamacallit. No, I don't know what they were called - other than sarees and salwar-kurtas with crystals and lace. Oh, they're called ensemble, I think. [That doesn't sound right, there must be more to it]. All the top models were there - Shyla Lopez has lost gazillions of weight, Noyonika was looking tres jolie, Model Tina [which I believe, is her full name, after an affidavit] canNOT catwalk to save her ribcage. She stoops, and does a complicated futuristic dance-type thing, something between Quasimodo trying to be a geisha[?!] and an aged camel in stilletoes, only flashier - very difficult to explain on a headache. Maybe that's what caused it, come to think of it. Tapur/Tupur - at least one of em was there.
Let's see, what else. The famous persons of Kolkata were all present- theatre personality, TV anchor, Govt. hotshot, that socialite from the club who looks like a christmas tree all year round was in full bloom [to her credit, the woman has a gorgeous bod - I mean she must be 97, but what a body and what skin!].
They played one or two songs that I liked - Besame Mucho was one, the other one was a french song that I haven't heard before.
On the way back, an inebriated mother [lady can't hold her drink, what to say - she gulps, she refuses to sip] exhibited some motor madness, singing "sesame kucho" every time she overtook a lorry from the wrong side and narrowly missed death. She insists the song is "sesame kucho", I haven't bothered to correct her - there's an unmistakable joie de vivre in the way she sings it awl wrong in a drunken stupor. Try telling my mother drunk driving is against the law and have your head bitten off, won't you?
NEWS FLASH ! ! ! I, RAINBEAU_PEEP, HAVE QUIT SMOKING ! ! QUIT ! QUIT ! QUIT !
No kidding, I really have. My unborn kids had better be bloody grateful, I tell you.
p.s.: Fellow JU bloggers, please please support me during this trying time. if you find me with a cigarette please feel free to take it from me and stub it out. I may fight, I may scratch and bite, but please do this for me. I wanna give this a serious shot, this time. I give u license to slap.