Monday, December 21, 2009

My New Year Potty

The new year has already started to drive me mad. It has been driving me mad since the first of December. Infact, when the 1st of Dec is born, I'm known to sweat profusely and avoid talking to Most People. (Most People, always want to know what my Newyearplans are)

It won't take a genius to figure out, I hate discussing new year's eve plans. This is mostly because I usually don't have any. Which is more so because,

1: I honestly fear big parties and social gatherings of any sort where I don't know more than four people at least.

2: I suck at planning stuff.

3: I can't handle the pressure.

4: 31st is the end of the month, which logically rhymes with the words "I am broke".


So there you go. I keep wondering why new year's eve automatically requires one to get wasted and forget their last names in a crowd of strangers,( one of whom is definately a Deadly Bore). I said this last year as well, I really don't mind sitting home watching TV. But since the only two people in the world who'd give me company, are my parents...I think it's cooler to just do the usual. Go to Bangalore and get wasted and forget my last name (hopefully not in a crowd of stangers though).

Meanwhile, it's currently Christmas time, which means only happiness to me, since I've been really young. Be it Doordarshan's snazzy (?) programming from the 1990s, or my mother always making sure us kids have gifts for Christmas stuffed in socks tied to out bed posts :) There IS something charming even about the fakie Santas we have known as children, with their obvious cotton beards and pillow-stuffed paunches. In some parts of the country, Santas have a creepy habit of wearing Santa masks along with their robes...which has never felt right somehow. But as a whole, an Indian christmas is a more genuine experience somehow...the sales pitch is not glass shatteringly high maybe.

As friends come down this Christamas eve to stay over for the first time, I feel a little more cheery than usual. My secret Santa might not know that what I really want for christmas is an I pod, a foot massage at Aroma Thai and tickets to Bangalore. But there is likelihood of getting yet another candle to stuff in my dusty cupboard. And honestly, I won't mind that at all :)

So Merry Christmas all (even you, Blog Thief).

*Sings*

"Joy to the world

Our teacher is dead

We barbacued her head...

What happened to her body?

We flushed it down the potty...

And round and round it went

And round and round it went

And roouuund and rouuund

And round it went"

4 comments:

Rasika Raghavan said...

Hee hee . It was a hoot to hear you idiots sing that song at Stella. Merry Christmas!

Rana said...

its needs to be sliced into smaller bits to get flushed and not go round and round...

Da Rodent said...

And and, plans have a 99.99% failure rate :-/

Nice song btw :)

Meera said...

lol @ ratty.
@ rana: yes...and then washed down with harpic.
@ the rodent: thanks. my little cousin brother taught me thats song. touching, eh? :)