No, this was not started to rant about the World Cup 2010, although i must say, Brazil's exit was not what i was looking forward to. Anyway, following the World Cup is but a trivial matter compared to heaps of tangles needing solutions in the back of my head, although i must express the immense pleasure one attains knowing the finals are finally approaching!!! It shall be a social event i look forward to!!!
So the story so goes that i had an arrangement to meet up yet another senior of mine (I have like hundreds of seniors, but this was one of the more significant ones, much like Miss Cries My Heart Out), BSc Physics graduate, Mr Surya Look-Alike-minus the washboard abs. And he is very much socially engineered like Mr. P is and having said so was looking for a place to get a good massage. I have this thing about a very thin tolerance level for personal space and people servicing me; people never touch me but for 4 reason; #1 adjust my makeup (very rare occurance, my stage makeup is almost invariably flawless); #2 hugs, #3 dancing; #4 haircuts. So i don't ever see myself getting a massage, let alone allowing someone get to my genitalia/crotch/carnal regions (points to Mr P and the next possible sexual endeavour/partner; whichever comes first.) Yes, Mr. Mr Surya Look-Alike was looking for such contentment.
WHO CARES!!!
I was being a gracious host because Mr Surya Look-Alike was from down south and also because has always managed to amuse me with his adaptability (something Mr. P can never pull off). Already being a person of such an obliging nature (Cookies and Cakes wants my tolerance level), i was even more persuaded to do this good deed of driving him around in the last night he was in town, my town!!! So i did. Another congruous fit to the scenario was Mr Fuck A-Lot (no effort was needed with this pseudonym because it fit the bill so well), a downright promiscuous guy whom epitomises the notion love transcends physical appearance. He is good looks shy of an average joe and yet has managed to woo women (plural) to sleep with him under the false pretences of a proper relationship. Besides his excessive tendency to overplay his capabilities (one has already acquired the craft of listening and then minimize the gravity of scenarios) he is pretty decent a friend (one has also realised no one is to be judged, not even Mr. P).
Enough about them, the thing that prompted me to start an entry was me and my adaptability. Saturday night, i was out with Cookies and Cakes with Miss 'Poh'bulous and Porn Barney, to an art auction house and then to Draghouse for some frivolous fun (although i must say i enjoyed 'Poh'bulous' company). Our occasional topics ranging from "being outright hypocrites" to current issues. And Sunday night called for a session of trivial remiscence of past alcohol-sloshing-activities to cigarette labels explored thus far. The idea may not seem contrasting but the scenario was evidently distinct; note: an hour glancing through the ingenuity of some of our locally revered artists in a classy heritage building to an hour of mere negligible content of conversations. A poignant thought vibrated through myself; i can do anything!!! Surviving a group of straight very stereotypical Indian men, whose hearts' i've managed to capture and mingling with people of proper mannerisms and explicit (well, almost at least) tastes and well-delved conformation of their selves...
I should be able to do anything!!!
Heading for the knockout stages next, first punch, odissi!!! I am serious about it now!!!
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