This one's for Beq, who called me today and asked me to write about "something different". Beq-boy, this one's to cheer you up and give you hope. Because being a mum (and talking about it and writing about it) still does not make me boring stay-at-home. Not all the time at least.
So, Dana and Shuki and I've been hanging out a bit of late. It's nice to be surrounded by women and that may sound like a silly thing to say because I'm in an office filled with women quite a lot of days each month, but actually, it's nice to hang out with girlfriends once in a while. We had a pedicure night one Thursday, after I came home from work. The Bhablet's pool was appropriated and filled with hot water and we all enjoyed a nice long soak before the rest of it. There was wine, popcorn, gossip and much laughter.
Since we had so much fun, we decided to follow it up with a movie on Saturday night -- Sweeney Todd. That's two musicals in one months: the La Martiniere show of Fiddler on The Roof (dir. by Katy Roy) and then Sweeney Todd.
And since that was such fun, we decided to watch Finding Neverland at our place on Sunday night. Dana brought the DVD player but not the remote; my laptop cut the disc dead on first sight; we drove down to her place and brought the remote; the disc stopped playing ten minutes into the movie. You believe in jinxes? So we decided to go for a drive instead. While ambling down Southern Avenue at 11ish on a Sunday night we were amazed by the prostitutes waiting by Vivekananda Park. Because these women (some were transvestites) were wearing the most kinky clothes, from crotch-level minis to fishnet stockings to barely-there boob tubes. Such fun. So we turned around and drove back to reassure ourselves that we had indeed seen what we thought we'd seen.
Being decent misses and a much-married mother we wouldn't pick any of them up, of course, so we did the next best thing and picked up Maitra (who's back in India, yay) and brought him to see the girls. It was side-splittingly funny how the girls were negotiating with cars going by, while the policemen at the booth maybe two hundred yards off looked in the opposite direction.
And then we went off in search of more things to see on Cal streets at night. Esplanade yielded nothing so we turned into Park Street. Maitra wanted coffee so we found ourselves walking into Atrium at The Park. Just before midnight, me wearing my skimpy home shorts and a faded top, hair anyoldhow, Shuki in a no-nonsense t-shirt and shorts, Dana in my old racerback vest that has now stretched to infinity and come back home fading colour all the way from there. Oh and I forgot to mention Bruno, the Brown University mascot that Maitra's brought as a gift for The Bhablet. I didn't like to leave Bruno alone in the car so he came along with us. From Atrium to Aqua (the poolside bar which turned out to be both closed and staffed by kids who couldn't have been more than sixteen tops) to Someplace which revealed Tin and Can, among other people. Shuki said her credit was good enough to get him into Roxy and I only wish I'd taken her up on that one, because it seems a shame to have taken him to all other parts of The Park and left out Roxy. On the other hand, given that Bruno came to be a companion to my son, that was probably just The Bhablet's good angel waking up at last and getting down to his job.
We drove around aimlessly for a while afterwards, I remember, and there was a lot of hilarity, but things are a little vague after that. Came home a little after 1, so couldn't have been up to very much.
Tonight Dana, Shuki, Maitra and I went to watch Sex and The City. I loved it. I mean, I didn't go looking for anything very profound, so I was able to enjoy the fashion stuff and the hot bods without worrying too much about what level of cinema it was. And I truly love the whole fashion thing. Call me shallow, but I like fashion shows and adore watching well-kept women carry off the most outrageous outfits. I love the teeter-totter heels and the dinky hats and the slinky coats and the It bags. OK, I know It bags are kinda passe but I like the whole culture, is what I'm saying.
I loved the way the movie focused on making men look so edible. Because, honestly, am sick of watching only women's bodies through the male gaze in the name of erotica. I wouldn't mind women's bodies through the feminine gaze but that hardly happens in the world I live in. But the men in SATC were just so hot! There was Big, looking as gorgeous as ever. The guy in the beachhouse next to Samantha's who was pretty much lemmeatim if you ask me. (You didn't?)
And I loved how the women were older and fun and cool with being older. Sometimes it bothers me that our generation is too busy trying to stay young. Now that I'm very nearly on the 'wrong' side of 25, I'm pretty excited about getting older. Am looking forward to the 28 and the 30 and between you and me, I intend to be darn sexy when I'm 40. Even if I'm fat.
Since there were four of us who'd gone for the show it seemed only fair to decide beforehand who was to be whom. Dana being Charlotte was an unanimous choice; Shuki as Miranda and me as Carrie was more because we were less unlike these two characters than we were the others as such; Maitra, by common consent, could only be Samantha.
We were followed by a random bike guy on the way home. He followed us down Southern Avenue, all the way to Jodhpur Park, so we stopped by the police kiosk at the corner of the Jodhpur Park park and explained to the two cops on duty that we were being followed and was it OK if we stopped there for a minute. We did seem to lose the creep after that. Dana has messaged that she reached home safe.
I think, next time, I'll take Ally. Am not comfortable with Dana being the designated driver every single time. She may be stronger than me but I'm older and anyway, fair's fair.
We have to leave for our flight to Madras in, let me see, three hours. You think there's any point sleeping? Probably not. I think so too.