This is a bit of an awkward story to share. Several months ago, I reached out to a good friend and a fashion-forward one at that to help me with some recommendations on all things bridal – henna, lehengas, make up, hair, all that migraine-inducing stuff. She was prompt to reply and recommended that I get a stylist. I was open to the idea but quite frankly I don’t have an infinite budget so I was pretty honest about that. Nonetheless I got in touch with the woman she recommended on email. She seemed really nice and said she wanted to help even though she knew I would not be a high-revenue client. Continue reading
Email that prompted my irate response:
Dear Ms. Jups,
Thank you for writing us.
We are pleased to offer you 150 rooms and can accommodate upto 300 Guest in Cluster sitting arrangement. Please advise us on the specific as its not decided as of now.
Please find attached details for your reference.
Wedding Link : Link to a thousand pictures of a random bride and groom with maybe one photo of the wedding venue. Pictures from what is clearly not a South Indian wedding but in fact one of those horrible Indian weddings where both bride and groom are clearly Hindu but the wedding is very “trying-to-be-a-white/Christian-wedding-but-not-really-because-it’s-not-in-a -Church-because-why-would-it-be?-you’re-not-fucking-Christian!”
Do advice for any further assistance
Regards, Continue reading
So I have embarked on a fantastic experiment that I am convinced will fundamentally change the way I live. And if that’s not a dramatic enough start, I don’t know what is. I am taking on a new habit, if you willl. The Fit Habit, I call it fondly.
The airport lounge: by far my favourite place to write. I have missed you. I have missed Juice.
Life has gotten in the way of writing. Work was insanely busy till a few weeks ago. Ike is still filling my existence with new meaning. And I have embarked on a new challenge to get myself fitter. More on this later. Continue reading
For the last few days I have been unable to comprehend my mental state. I have had massive mood swings and I have felt very lonely. I have cried on the phone to Ike and to my brother. I know for a fact that Ike has lost his patience with me even if he says (and he does) he loves me and like me, now uses silly similes like “I love you like eggs love potatoes”. If you don’t get that, then I implore you to try basted eggs on a bed of fried potatoes – it is a most divine marriage. Continue reading