pleasant background noise
i thought i wouldn't post until i had something big to write a lengthy post about. the blogging threshold is a concept i am having difficulty with however, as several small flutterbugs have happened, that are worth recording, but are not part of a possible sensible pithy storyline.
to start with the most immediate, i walked briskly for 20 minutes just now in the dark by the river in fine but blowy cold rain. clouds were many shades of purple, silhouettes of mutant trees on the opposite bank were inky, the wind was so fresh, and hammersmith bridge was a warm glowy green. one of those life affirming 20 minutes. i swore joyously in hindi at the cold rain, dared a hypothetical scaryhoodie to come molest me, and swung my sainsbury's bag full of lamb stew ingredients recklessly around me, an internally cackling witch on her way to a good bubble-up.
i walked thus because i was coming home from my urban family's central married unit's new place on mall road, just beside Furnival Gardens, the lucky dogs. they moved there today, i helped. mainly by, i think, being an incentive for a handy sort of man to come along. i also papered some shelves and shifted some boxes, but my main role was to bring sunshine and cheer to the proceedings, while being a breathing coach to mrs married unit, who is prone to panic attacks. the handy sort of man packed and unpacked sweetly and efficiently, followed me about a bit, made me laugh a lot, and made most satisfying allusions to our activities a few weeks ago as well as our plans next week and the week after next. all of which has left me feeling deliciously confused again, drat. i think this happened partly because i had written him off last week as having a bad case of the having-his-cake-and-eating-it-too, what with a mysterious long distance relationship and all. also, i have a couple of nice sweet boys who have been paying me attention and being available, much more so than handyman. and i have decided not to underestimate availability. so i had decided to not be a ninny about said handyman and to treat him like the awesome but cowardly-in-love boy that he is. sadly, availability and sweetness do not induce the proverbial chaddi-mein-bukhaar (chuddey-may-boocar to my more anglophone readers) that is neccessary to sustain an interest in a person of the opposite sex. drat.
which brings me, in a roundabout way, to last night, when the ladies of the mansion went on yet another random friday night out. i had decided to be good and come home early, having been expressly instructed by mrs married unit to not get a hangover (in order to help move etc), so after a nice quiet dinner with yet another couple on friday night, i came home. the 2 girls were home too somehow. someone asked 'why are we all home?'.. someone else said ' shall we go down to the southern belle?'.. and from there it was a steep slide to free champagne and dancing til 2 AM at sugar hut. walked home afterwards, worked the muscles that have been sore from my new Street-dancing class. loved it. but the point was, i taught the girls how to say 'chuddey-may-boocar', them being British and all, bless their souls. after bandying various versions around loudly and drunkenly on our walk home, we agreed on a short quick code. if things are going well on a date or suchlike, we say 'gulaab chaddi' (Goolab Chuddey, or rose underpants). if not, we say 'badboo chaddi' (Budboo Chuddey, bad smell underpants). don't ask me for the logic, but at 3 AM, sweating and also freezing in London's unseasonally wintry October, it made so much sense. Goolab Chuddey can also be used while checking out and assessing an unknown man's potential. in his presence! isn't that clever?
before friday night started, friday was a haranguey sort of workday, where i had no concentration and several piled up deadlines and all sorts of bad news about how the great economic depression was already affecting the minions at my huge corporate firm. tomorrow i intend to go into the office (today has certainly been good and weekendy enough to last me a while) and finish off some of those workpiles. and that is certainly not worth blogging about.
Nood Gight!
to start with the most immediate, i walked briskly for 20 minutes just now in the dark by the river in fine but blowy cold rain. clouds were many shades of purple, silhouettes of mutant trees on the opposite bank were inky, the wind was so fresh, and hammersmith bridge was a warm glowy green. one of those life affirming 20 minutes. i swore joyously in hindi at the cold rain, dared a hypothetical scaryhoodie to come molest me, and swung my sainsbury's bag full of lamb stew ingredients recklessly around me, an internally cackling witch on her way to a good bubble-up.
i walked thus because i was coming home from my urban family's central married unit's new place on mall road, just beside Furnival Gardens, the lucky dogs. they moved there today, i helped. mainly by, i think, being an incentive for a handy sort of man to come along. i also papered some shelves and shifted some boxes, but my main role was to bring sunshine and cheer to the proceedings, while being a breathing coach to mrs married unit, who is prone to panic attacks. the handy sort of man packed and unpacked sweetly and efficiently, followed me about a bit, made me laugh a lot, and made most satisfying allusions to our activities a few weeks ago as well as our plans next week and the week after next. all of which has left me feeling deliciously confused again, drat. i think this happened partly because i had written him off last week as having a bad case of the having-his-cake-and-eating-it-too, what with a mysterious long distance relationship and all. also, i have a couple of nice sweet boys who have been paying me attention and being available, much more so than handyman. and i have decided not to underestimate availability. so i had decided to not be a ninny about said handyman and to treat him like the awesome but cowardly-in-love boy that he is. sadly, availability and sweetness do not induce the proverbial chaddi-mein-bukhaar (chuddey-may-boocar to my more anglophone readers) that is neccessary to sustain an interest in a person of the opposite sex. drat.
which brings me, in a roundabout way, to last night, when the ladies of the mansion went on yet another random friday night out. i had decided to be good and come home early, having been expressly instructed by mrs married unit to not get a hangover (in order to help move etc), so after a nice quiet dinner with yet another couple on friday night, i came home. the 2 girls were home too somehow. someone asked 'why are we all home?'.. someone else said ' shall we go down to the southern belle?'.. and from there it was a steep slide to free champagne and dancing til 2 AM at sugar hut. walked home afterwards, worked the muscles that have been sore from my new Street-dancing class. loved it. but the point was, i taught the girls how to say 'chuddey-may-boocar', them being British and all, bless their souls. after bandying various versions around loudly and drunkenly on our walk home, we agreed on a short quick code. if things are going well on a date or suchlike, we say 'gulaab chaddi' (Goolab Chuddey, or rose underpants). if not, we say 'badboo chaddi' (Budboo Chuddey, bad smell underpants). don't ask me for the logic, but at 3 AM, sweating and also freezing in London's unseasonally wintry October, it made so much sense. Goolab Chuddey can also be used while checking out and assessing an unknown man's potential. in his presence! isn't that clever?
before friday night started, friday was a haranguey sort of workday, where i had no concentration and several piled up deadlines and all sorts of bad news about how the great economic depression was already affecting the minions at my huge corporate firm. tomorrow i intend to go into the office (today has certainly been good and weekendy enough to last me a while) and finish off some of those workpiles. and that is certainly not worth blogging about.
Nood Gight!
Comments
a.) you are the more assiduous sister, therefore it was my fault at the kumbha mela.
b.) messages to and from the stars really DO take ages to travel back and forth
and
c.) one person looked at my blog in april!
tunk you very much for encouraging my squeaking little baby blog on.