Double century and a lot of rambling…

After three plus years of blogging , I’ve finally hit the 200th post ! Yayyyy! So much has happened to me  during these 200 posts , that I can’t even put these changes into words. For most part, this blog has chronicled my journey.It has metamorphosed from a larvae into a butterfly (ok, apologies for the sad analogy ). I am just happy that I am still blogging after three years.
I am officially under a house arrest (!!) for the next 4-5 hours because of a lunar eclipse  and  am looking forward to catching up with all your blogs. There is little scientific evidence suggesting that lunar eclipses are harmful for pregnant women and the unborn baby, but  for once I am ok with toeing the line and keeping my  mouth shut (just to keep the elders happy). My mom has been light-proofing my room and bathroom for the last half hour so that no stray beams manage to get in . Umm, well … 
Tomorrow we are officially shifting and while I am glad that we will be moving into a new space, I am also a little sad that we will be moving out of this one. I found myself a little overwhelmed when I locked up yesterday and am sure I’ll bawl my eyes out after the movers are done with their jig tomorrow. Anyway , to cheer myself up , I got myself some goodies….*winks*.
I am a huge shopaholic , but haven’t really indulged in any impulse shopping for myself in a while. Today, I visited the exhibition I mentioned a few days back on the blog, but because I didn’t carry my camera ,I couldn’t click pics and show them to you. It was ok-ok and had the usual suspects-jewellery, clothes, linen and assorted girly stuff. I was super excited about picking up some stuff from Matsya , as I’ve been drooling at their goodies posted on other blogs for a long time now, but didn’t pick anything up from their stall because I wasn’t keen on anything they were carrying. I picked up a finger ring and a  fridge magnet from  the other stalls.
I love finger rings (chunkier the better). Other jewelery I wear is extremely understated and miniature -sized compared to my finger rings. My other obsession(accessories-wise) is for bags.I ‘ve inherited this trait from my mom and aunt who are obsessive bag buyers.Strange how such traits can passed down from one generation to another..I’ve also inherited an unhealthy obsession for lotions , creams and anything that smells nice and fruity from my mom. My mom is a mind-bogglingly  resourceful and a street-smart person. She is super active and you ‘ll never catch her resting for even a single minute.Wish I had inherited those useful genes instead of these obsessive shopping genes that she has so generously passed on  to me ;-). Did I mention that I love buying incense sticks too? I have tried almost all the fragrances from Auroville and Maroma. My favourite is the blueberry cheesecake fragrance stick from Maroma.Yummy!
Anyway, I’ve rambled enough. Without further ado, let me show you the beauties I bought.You’ll have to excuse my un-manicured hands (I am trying to stay away from any chemicals as much as possible).

The butterfly ring…
La..La..La….A close-up
Pretty, no? I also bought a fridge magnet,which I thought is uber cute.It’s from a company called Chennaigaga that makes Chennai souvenirs. A friend of mine is a huge fridge magnet collector and has about 70-odd magnets on her fridge.It is truly a sight to behold. Somehow,I picked up the habit of collecting magnets from her and have been collecting quirky/funky magnets for the last one year. I am nowhere near the 70- mark , but am sure someday will have a super collection that I’ll be proud of…
The magnet.. You likey? Cute, no?

Do you obsessively collect anything?Are you a Becky Bloomwood like me or you detest shopping like the chap?

Have a super weekend!

Of sizes and random tantrums

This post is going to be about weight and size and  pregnancy hormones and all those vain things pregnant women are not supposed to crib about.It also contains mildly inflammatory feminist sentiments,which some men might find disturbing. Well, grab an extra buttery muffin ,you’ll be just fine in a bit.

For someone who has  languished in  an “XS”  size for a substantial period of time, I’ve come a long way. I distinctly remember wanting to do nothing with the “XS” tag back when I was one and was truly ecstatic when I hit the “M” mark. Random aunties who had routinely bombarded me with ” How will you ever get married if you are so skinny?” suddenly started seeing me in a new light. As if the sole purpose of my existence was to  strive to become an “M” for the sake of  getting married to some guy who I barely knew. Its a different thing that the guy could be “XS”  or even an “XXXXS” and still be considered a “catch”. Because a man is a man and therefore above such trivial things.  

Anyway,the years just galloped by and one fine day I woke up being too small for my “M” clothes. Many Meena Kumari-acts followed , but I was refused re-entry back at the golden gates of “M”. I drowned my sorrows in  barrels of long island ice tea, and having seen so much trauma in life so early, I was ready for anything.
“XL biatch , bring it on..” was my war cry. 
Of course , I had no intention of becoming an “XL” in my lifetime. XL” happened to other people , not to me. I had superior “XS” genes, didn’t I ? Now that I fondly (not) reminisce about those days ,I  realize how delusional I’ve been ,because now “XL” is so much a part and parcel of my existence.
*Meena Kumari-act* and stop mosquito coil. Cut to the present.
  
The other day I was in some random snobby clothing store to pick up some stuff. The  snooty attendant looked at me bitchily for a second trying to ascertain whether I was just plain heavy or pregnant-heavy. I glared back at her and shoved my tummy at her nose ( If you are one of those visual people, please don’t take this statement literally). As if people needed to apologize to her highness for being plain heavy.
A second later, the girl smiled and blurted “How many months ,mam?” 
I mumbled something inaudibly and dilly-dallied when she asked me my size. Finally, having had enough of the “sour-pregnant-pain-in-the-arse-woman”, the woman left me alone to languish in the aisles.
A few minutes later, another young thing appeared and asked, “How many months, mam?”
But this one was was an “XL” herself and I warmed immediately to her. For the next 15 minutes or so , the girl tried to amuse me by pulling out shiny-bright clothes with the sole purpose of bankrupting me.
Nothing seemed interesting and I flipped my phone and stared disinterestedly  like some kitty-party-conducting-society-wife.
 Finally,  I spotted something promising and pointed it to her. 
“But mam, that is an XL.Maybe you should be looking at an XXL, with your… ahem.. si..pregnancy,” she said.
She meant  my “SIZE”.  XXL and me?!

The world stopped spinning for a minute.

She had been showing me XXL stuff all along. And I thought she was my friend. I had even proffered my life history, and offered to spam the chap’s inbox with her brother’s CV , all in a fit of giddy sister-hood bonding .

 No, I wouldn’t give in.
“XL will be fine,” I said firmly.
The girl sighed and pulled out the same thing in XL.
But wait ! It wasn’t the same pattern.
” I want that yellow design with the red piping and orange flowers, not purple flowers,” I whined.  
Which they didn’t have. A few more “patterns” that I liked weren’t available in the right colours too.Then it sunk in that the choices one has  gets appallingly lesser as on progresses up the size radar.It just wasn’t fair. Aren’t large people entitled to their orange flowers? Why should we be pretend to be happy with purple flowers ?

Suddenly, my whole existence seemed pointless.
I  probably looked like I was on the verge of shedding  a couple of tears.
By now the girl was exasperated with my hormone-fueled demands and looked like she would do a Meena Kumari-act herself. She let out a huge sigh of relief when I announced that I was leaving.

Poor thing.

I did feel a little bad later about giving her such a nasty time.If only they had stocked that orange flower kurta, everyone would have been happy.I am sure the girl will never forget the orange flower kurta in her lifetime..At least  I  know I won’t.

A random Walk down my lane


This post is done without any rhyme or reason … just felt like posting ..

I discovered last evening ,shockingly, that i have started greying..i suddenly remembered assorted commercials of hair-dyes on tv and shuddered at the unfairness of life .. God, spare me !!!

i know this comment will be jeered on by general junta and many wisecracks will follow..but then a girl has to do what she has to do .. 😉

i was shocked (ok , a lil !!) when i discovered my 3rd white hair .. i always assumed that white hair would happen to other people, not me and hoped that i belonged to a slightly superior gene pool , that would somehow mutate the grey-hair-inducing gene..well, fact of the matter is that maybe the mutation decided to wait for a few more generations before happening and i am stuck with 3 evil white/grey strands that evily remind me of my age…Ah!! vanity ..

On a totally different note, i sent a very stupid mail to a good friend and only after sending the offensive thing did i realise that it was a tad idiotic to have done it …sometimes, my own stupidity takes my breath away..wish life had one of those undo buttons..

On a totally different note again(i am tiring u all , aren’t i ?) , i discovered that i am the worst dressed person in Chennai ..who goes to the Citi centre in old(almost tattered is more like it) jean,worn out kurta and flip-flops? well i did .. and yeah the award for the worst dressed shopper went to me ..whatever happened to shopping in comfort? .. how do u expect to shop in stilettos and designer jeans,people ?

I am looking forward to next week .. lets see what it has in store .. definitely not more greys, i hope ..