I just got off the phone with an old para friend, who has also shifted like I have, but we keep in touch every once in a while, because we used to be great chums and also very good badminton partners. Well, it was her birthday, and we had a very dissatisfactory conversation, because she was "giving tuitions" and seemed a little weary and angry at the same time, because I called her up so late in the day. I could not get over the "giving tuition" bit and kept repeating it like a moron, because giving tuitions means that you're all grown up, and going to be married in a couple of years time, with love-life problems and synthetic salwaar kameezes- all seem to match her to a tee. And I still roam about in shorts and tees thinking about the next TV programme or something equally inane and occassionally wonder, shit, I have to score before I'm 21.
Yes, 21 in a month and few days, and I am, as the chick-flick goes, Clueless. Only, I'm 21, not 16, with a dodgy Post Graduate plan ahead of me, weight - that I shall never lose (I have finally convinced myself, this is how it will be, Discovery will never nominate me for their makeover shows), sociopathic tendencies, and long distance friends, even if they live a couple of blocks away. It all gets like that eventually. And this badminton partner of mine, who blushed at the thought of a love marriage, is carrying on with some boy she probably cannot marry and is "giving tuitions" and studying something serious. God, why is everybody so bloody un-flippant these days.
I really don't know what I want. I like literature, but it worries me that, I'll be one of those women in cream-coloured ethnic saris, tribal jewelry, gigantic bindis, with her panties in a bunch, talking about post modernism at a wine and cheese party through the corner of her mouth. Unmarried of course, with just a hint of being somebody's mistress. Arrgh. That could so happen. What would I be doing, even then? Working at some library and pretending to be important? Oh my god, I'll be the sad librarian lady (who reccomends Simone de Beauvoir and secretly reads Mills and Boon). Wait...I'll be...PIGGY (who is some of the above, and an ex-librarian and elocution teacher....Miss, she insited emphatically through the corner of her lips, not Mrs - with the air of a woman unlucky and unlaid, educated, but not brilliant, ever). Horrors. Let me just die before 30.
Yes, 21 in a month and few days, and I am, as the chick-flick goes, Clueless. Only, I'm 21, not 16, with a dodgy Post Graduate plan ahead of me, weight - that I shall never lose (I have finally convinced myself, this is how it will be, Discovery will never nominate me for their makeover shows), sociopathic tendencies, and long distance friends, even if they live a couple of blocks away. It all gets like that eventually. And this badminton partner of mine, who blushed at the thought of a love marriage, is carrying on with some boy she probably cannot marry and is "giving tuitions" and studying something serious. God, why is everybody so bloody un-flippant these days.
I really don't know what I want. I like literature, but it worries me that, I'll be one of those women in cream-coloured ethnic saris, tribal jewelry, gigantic bindis, with her panties in a bunch, talking about post modernism at a wine and cheese party through the corner of her mouth. Unmarried of course, with just a hint of being somebody's mistress. Arrgh. That could so happen. What would I be doing, even then? Working at some library and pretending to be important? Oh my god, I'll be the sad librarian lady (who reccomends Simone de Beauvoir and secretly reads Mills and Boon). Wait...I'll be...PIGGY (who is some of the above, and an ex-librarian and elocution teacher....Miss, she insited emphatically through the corner of her lips, not Mrs - with the air of a woman unlucky and unlaid, educated, but not brilliant, ever). Horrors. Let me just die before 30.
Labels: The Porked Road Ahead
posted by Loony Libberswick of Llapland at 7:18 PM
10 Comments:
dhyaat you'll be the other type... the fun college prof with short hair (i LOVE the hair, so that's supposed to be a compliment) who's all jeans-tshirt types and does cool things like photography mountaineering and smokes weed with students... and writes the ocassional book. lol. the type you described would be me.
there's a comma between photography and mountaineering by the way, or an "and".
LOL, me a Prof? I almost added there, God, please, NEVER let me teach! But shit, you made me such a cool, albeit a little pretentious prof.
Hehe, ami Piggy re, I'm ze real Peegee.
TBC in gigantic bindis and tribal jewelry? no way. That would be too much of a fancy dress partay. I'd believe you so much more in a cute little leather catsuit.
im telling you...ul be one of those unexpected sucess stories that no one thought would click. one of those ppl who do everything bcoz they are pretty much good at em all. writing, photography, music, travellying, hippy-giri, all tht!! and 20 yrs down the line when i return home from a weary desk job to tuck my kids into bed i'll make up imaginary stories abt how i once knew u and talked to u on a regular basis!! not that they'll believe me, but still...
:)
what man, you have such dhari kids that you need to tuck in at 40?
i'll be trying unsucessfully and will finally adopt 2 at 38!
you can probably avoid the panties in a bunch by buying the right kind of underwear...the rest of your future is probably in god's hands.just remember you are not alone, many of us twenty somethings don't know where we're going. have faith girlie, tings wil be a okay.and if they're not, there'll always be television.
yes, there's always Tee Vee. It was great talking to you last night :)
i mean...the getting laid part of it...hmm...21?...ummm....gimme a leeeetle more time....u'll get there... 'mark' my words
seriously, I have to find ways to keep you preoccupied. December, please come FAST!
And when you say "getting laid" it makes me sound so much more like Piggy. *sigh*.
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