Happy B.

I had wanted to write to myself from a few days in the past, and post my own birthday wishes to myself at midnight today. But then I kept delaying it..


It was going to be a hilarious post where I'd wish myself on the seventh anniversary of my 18th birthday (I am witty!!). Then I'd ask myself to stop being a bum - and grow up! Also I'd draw up a list of things to do before I am 30. (Shit I will be 30 in five years!!! It's so fucking scary.) Ya the list would include meeting Clint Eastwood, going to a Radiohead concert, finding the book - Confessions of Zeno, attending a Yann Tiersen live perfomrance, return to having a thirty inch waist, not lose my hair, living in a cold country for a little while, convincing myself that I get cinema, that I really get cinema, and then doing something about that, understand cooking and so on.

Anyway, there has been too much to do in the past week. So that post never got done.

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In other news, please expect a new short story by the next weekend. You probably don't care, which is perfect. But then someday you might get really really bored and there might be absolutely nothing to do, no hair even to tear out. Maybe then, I could help?

So, I was on a stupid Indian Airlines flight to Bangalore the other day. They have really old air-hostesses that whisper into ears when they see passengers enter and then they almost start to giggle in a wicked witch sort of way as you pass them. They behave like hosts do when uninvited guests arrive for a wedding; you can't really send back anyone from a wedding but you are amused that that someone actually turned up.

Also if you ask them to find a place for your bag, they look at you like you just asked them to have sex with you in public.

I don't really care that they are old, whats the point of having pretty air-hostesses? You rarely ever get to speak to them, and there is a high chance of them being dumb. It's the reason I never really LOOK at a lovely face just passing by. What's the point? Mostly I just put my head down and walk past, it's the truth!!

No, the story isn't about Indian Airlines, or the air hostesses, or travel or avoiding pretty faces and the reasons for doing so, it's not even about World Peace!

It's something that hit me as I was sleeping with my giant egg shaped head resting on my own tiny shoulders on a flight to Bangalore. It's a funny sight especially if my mouth is slightly open. Some turbulence paid us a visit and I woke up, but only slightly and then while shifting myself to the other shoulder my face cut through the dreams I was having. Because, you see, the dreams didn't get enough time to return through my nose. I caught them.

Rest later.

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Also about this Obama thing. While he was taking the oath, I was trying to pull out my phone from Cookie's mouth, so I missed it. It might be interesting to remember years from now.

Also I couldn't help but think - where was Joe the Plumber? What was he doing that day?