Okay, guilty of going under for a few weeks (no, Bitch Central did not get me into any trouble). I just felt like observing life for a while instead of having a point of view on it every week, and realised it is therapeutic not to have an opinion sometimes. But there is still enough bitch left in me, so I am back again.
Meanwhile, stuff happened:
People got engaged on Facebook.
People broke up.
People are trying to get engaged or are breaking up by putting it all ‘out there’
I watched The Social Network. Like!
I realised how much our state-of-mind is reflected in our state-of-walls.
The husband found out his BFF was single again. From me.
My dad won a 14 year-old property case, and is plotting to be a farmer. At the ripe young age of 72.
My FF has a whole set of new weird friends that I can make no sense of, but I am left wondering if I should say anything at all.
My only under-30 buddy was almost run over and is now lying horizontal, with his leg up in the air. The rich boy who ran him over got out on Rs 900 bail.
I got de-friended by fat ex-boyfriend. Fat. Yay!
I ran into thin ex-boyfriend. He needs a hair transplant. Yay!
My 16 month-old son has a girlfriend.
Chickwit lost to ads in HT Cafe and I am left wondering whether to turn this archive into a real blog. Which means I don’t get to disappear on you, and you get to hear all the gory details of my life, like what I had for breakfast. Or who I had for dinner. Not like!
Coming back to The Social Network. Okay, men do weird things to get the girls. Some paint. Some write Booker prize winners. Some, like Mark Zuckerberg create Facebook. Others, like Eduardo sue Mark Zuckerberg.
I must say I was a bit let down when I heard that Zuckerberg, who is a friend of a friend of a friend, has actually been dating the same girl since his freshman years. Now I find the whole premise of the movie or his multi-billion dollar idea – that of inadequacy and rejection— to be false. If he was in a long term relationship, where did the angst from not ‘getting girls’ come from? Unless, in Facebook parlance he was looking for ‘anything he could get.’
The husband says it’s cinematic liberty. But David Fincher is no Bhansali.
Talk to me. It’s been a while.