honey i’m home

What a crazy weekend. After feeling absolutely miserable on Saturday for the obvious reason that my sweetheart took his flight back to Singapore, I had decided that I was going to keep myself very busy on Sunday. And I did exactly that.

I woke up late, assembled my bar stools (well I left one unfinished) and spent a lot of time just picking up my clothes from suitcases in the living room and hanging them up in the bedroom. Spent an hour or two skyping with the family and that was nice. Felt like I had company. I showed them my apartment on the webcam. I even had breakfast while talking to them.

By 3 in the afternoon, I was showered and ready for another bout of household shopping – this time at Macy’s. {Remind me tell you of my ikea ordeal later} I picked up a pair of ridiculously overpriced shower curtains and a set of marked down Egyptian cotton sheets (so I guess net-net it’s okay?). I desperately needed to buy my blender. Turns out there are no good blenders in Macy’s. They’re all crap. No Tefal, no Braun, no Moulinex and no Philips – bye bye international names and hello domestic! The local brands here know nothing about making blenders or their attachment. Either you get a wimpy little blender that’s only good for making milkshakes or you get a food-processing monster that is only useful if you’re making 2 litres of chutney in one shot. No, thank you. And if you’re thinking about getting a handheld blender, you can fuggedaboutit because unlike Braun and Philips that make the really cool handheld blenders with attachments and assorted blades, local brands make a blah model that looks like it hasn’t been updated since the invention of electricity. This is so frustrating.

I come back, change into a nice grey dress, wear my new Miss Sixty patent leather booties and I’m off to an alumni event with Chiquita. It was okay, the woman hosting it was truly an inspiration – she had/has an amazing career and a gorgeous loft in downtown manhattan. I cannot begin to comprehend the size or the worth of her place – that’s how spectacular it was. Wouldn’t mind having one of those by the time I am 40. She gave me some furniture recommendations that I am waiting to check out this week.

I left the drinks and declined an invite to go meet more alums with Chiquita and instead chose to have a drink with an old classmate from my junior college who works in NY. He lives in NJ so I didn’t want to cancel or postpone the plan. Boy, was that a mistake. It was an utterly boring and annoying meeting and he was a patronizing ass. A lot of desis I meet here with the exception of close friends that I know from Singapore are condescending to no end. Maybe it has something to do with my unabashed love for Singapore or the fact that I am not USA-crazy like the rest of the universe but they just don’t see a need to be nice to me. I am not asking for any help, no huge favours – just a kind ear that listens as I talk about how overwhelming moving to a new city can be or some advice on where to buy things. I am not asking for them to accompany me or lend me money or help me buy something on credit. But no, he had to be annoying and patronizing and condescending. Apparently I am just whining because I don’t know where to shop or what brands to buy. Yeah, I was born yesterday. And even if I didn’t know, shouldn’t he be telling me? He can’t remember brands or stores. Wow. That’s mighty helpful, jackass.

Oh and the reason he likes living in New York is because you can get anything here (especially Indian food). As opposed to living in sub-Saharan Africa and eating rice balls and swatting flies to pass the time. I don’t get the Indian food thing one bit – it’s not even a real argument. Every country I’ve ever been to has Indian (and Chinese for that matter) restaurants. Every frikking country. I am pretty sure that if you went to Antarctica, there would be a desi dude there with a stall serving Penguin Vindaloo. (And he took that joke literally by the way).

Don’t even get me started on other aspects of this dull rendezvous like him trying to recommend me drinks “do you want to try a cocktail?” No I was born yesterday so I’ll have a glass of milk. Honestly it felt like he was trying to “compete” with me on everything, like he wanted to prove that he knew more than me. I really don’t have the time or the patience for this anymore but well, at least he killed (brutally) a couple of hours of time and by the time I returned home, it was bedtime.

I took home-made lunch to work today (sambhar rice yoghurt and chips – very South Indian). I am really proud of myself – it tasted great and it was so refreshing not to have yet another overpriced white bread sandwich. Not to mention the significant savings I could have if I did this with some regularity. Not like I hate sandwiches, to the contrary I love a well-made sandwich, but my stomach’s been completely roughed up by the continuous eating out.

It’s been a long day – it feels that way when you get to work at 7. By the time it’s 4pm, you’re itching and twitching, all restless. I wore my new Zara grey dress (that I picked up in Madrid for a pittance) with my new Michael Kors belt and old Jim Thompson scarf. It was such an easy ensemble for an early morning that I’ve decided to expand my collection of boring grey, black and brown dresses. No ironing = great for Mondays.

The plan tonight was to go shopping for dinner plates/bowls, a floor lamp and then come back home, cook a nice hearty meal and head to bed. I did exactly that. Beautiful plates and bowls in assymetric shapes and vibrant colours, a lovely dal-chawal dinner and now…bedtime. Good night New York.


One thought on “honey i’m home

  1. Buy an Osterizer (that’s a blender brand). Desis here swear by it with good reason. I’ve had it for three years – made dosas and idlis from scratch, and it doesn’t flinch even when I grind masalas.

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