Monday, April 25, 2016

How to keep your Friends when you've become a morose piece of shit

1. Make sure that you socially alienate yourself. It will allow your friends to sort of forget you exist.
2. Once they have forgotten to have any expectations from you, call or preferably text/email them. They will feel a surge of nostalgia so powerful that they will only remember you from when you used to be fun.
3. Rotate between friends and make contact with a patterned irregularity. You have to keep yourself away so that they don't realize what a bundle of joy you are (insert morose lame sarcasm) but don't completely forget about you as well. Your moroseness will force you to resort to ideological control and playing mind games.
4. Make sure you remember approximate birthdays - so that when you text them (giving them options as to when their birthday falls), they are bowled over by how much they mean to you that you remember their birthday without Facebook. This can only apply to friends you talk to on a yearly basis.
5. Hoard your stories. That will give you material to make conversation so that people still talk to you and not completely abandon you.
6. Keep your neediness in check but not so much that your friends forget how pathetically dependent you are on them. Manipulation of their better selves is key.
7. While you have become a no fun monster, your tragic flaw is that you haven't gained the insight of an introvert. You still cannot listen but because you have shut them out of your life, your snivelling tendency to  be able to feel that you 'know them' will ensure your interest - thereby allowing you to be a better listener and subsequently giving your friends an intimation of your maturity and growth. The do-gooder in them will force them to not leave a promising albeit imperfect human project.
8. As you have become morose and alone, you now have the time to hoard up on random bits of news and cultural trivia  - this will allow your friends to still keep you in their life as you are 'not too dumb' and sometimes interesting. Otherwise they will run for the hills because you are such a drag.
9. Develop a certain flare for invoking nostalgic memories from your times spent together so that you can guilt them into staying.
10. If all else fails, talk about how sad you really are - your friends will be afraid of karma to leave you in your days of mental breakdown even though you are acting like you are the reincarnation of Edgar Allen Poe.

Friday, April 22, 2016

My Party Stories

It's been a while since I have gone to a house party. While making yet another excuse for my adorably young and nice French child-friend's house party invitation, I have been remembering some of the weird and some mortifying (but funny) experiences I've had at house parties. I was toying with the idea of writing about men you meet at parties versus men you know in real life but I shall endeavour to be a rebel and not typecast my party stories into all about men - passing the Bechdel test (hopefully) and creating the setting for my one true hero- myself.

1.) One of the most mortifying experiences I have had with men in recent history happened at a party I attended last year. It was mostly people I knew directly or were friends of friends. It was a nice, cloistered JNU group where you would not expect random acts of outright horniness. My friend and I were talking to this shy, cute and slightly tipsy boy who seemed naively innocent. He was horny enough to hit on my very attractive friend and then when turned down , without batting  an eyelid attempt a rebuttal 'hit' on me. We thought he was so cute, this lonely boy with his harmless horniness. It was to my great horror when I was freaking the hell out to a throwback Ricky Martin song (you know when everyone is too drunk to be anything except nostalgic) that I felt this guy slap my butt. While unpleasant, it wasn't the worst. When you cart around an obese ass with skinny friends who get touchy feely after a few drinks, you get used to butt slaps.
The worst was what happened after that. I felt this guy snaking an arm around my waist which I resolutely brushed off of course.
I have always wondered what was going in his mind. Did he just assume that because I am fat I am obviously easy ? Or because I talked to him, I was obviously hoping for him to come and act douchey with me ?
The weirdest part was the morning. We had stayed over to take care of my friend's (whose party it was) girlfriend who had smacked her head on the marble floor in her drunken stupor. This guy was also a part of the crew being dropped off to various places. I didn't exactly hate him but I was shocked to see the ease with which he was offering himself for ribbing as if he had not made weird advances towards a completely unknown woman TWICE without her express consent.
Turns out he was an engineer before JNU. That explained a lot.

2.) My other funny-mortifying party experience also has to do with unwanted advances. This friend walked in with a boy at this party whom we did not know. I don't think I paid attention to his introduction but we all knew she was dating someone and I just assumed he was her boyfriend. This guy was nice and polite and sweet. He was a pilot in New Zealand and I did the thing I do around shy people. I talked to him that is. The fact that he was this girl's boyfriend, my hostess instincts kicked in and I was all 'Don't sit in the corner NZ boy dance with all of us.'
Over the night, there were some strange attempts at making over my look by a beautiful pushy friend. I remember coming out of this room after taking off my coat with my hair tie thrown off the balcony and NZ boy comes up to me and says in a tone you distinctly don't want your friend's boyfriend to use "Hey, you look so different/pretty (i can't remember which) I didn't recognise you."
I was busy dancing with my adorable child-friend who is probably the greatest dancer France has ever produced. This made me feel a little weird and I reverted to my own posse later to mention how weird X's boyfriend was. Then this friend goes on to suggest that hey that is not X's boyfriend.
I was mortified. That very nice, polite and a little taken with me NZ boy followed me for the rest of the party and I studiously avoided him. As he was leaving, I think I got my first and last invitation for a booty call (at least the only one that I have comprehended). He told me he was leaving the next day and he would love to hang out with me more. I was shocked to the very core of my obese, asexual, virgin self.
The rest of the party was spent in a lot of jokes made at my expense. It is safe to say I don't assume relationships between people anymore.

3.) The other weird thing is one of the weirdest, creepiest come ons I have ever heard in my life (if it was even a come-on). Another house party and a host of drunk people. It is important that I mention that I never drink. The very very few times I have gotten drunk (since my first year in Delhi) is in a control setting with my best friends Rohit and Isha. It is a trust issue .
But I dance. I dance at parties and I make others dance. I choreograph complete group sequences.
This class mate of mine (who I had pronounced till that day to be the cutest boy in my class) comes up to me when I have stopped dancing to catch my breath (which you have to do when you are fat.) and says "If I had those breasts, I would never ever sit."
It wasn't even sexual the way he said it. But it wasn't friendly either. It was a weird cocky I am a good looking guy and I am going to come and tell you I have been looking at your breasts for the past half hour and not care about the consequences.
Not like we were friends you know. I have barely had a full conversation with this guy.
While I stared aghast, he literally tipped his plastic cup full of some weird liquor towards me and left.
It was a strange feeling. It wasn't even a compliment I liked receiving from a guy I barely knew but it wasn't completely horrible in that moment as well.
I am still not quite sure how I feel about what he said. I don't like it nor do I like him but mostly I don't like that I liked a cute boy coming up to me and saying that even for an uncomfortable moment.

4.) My favourite memory however is the most juvenile of them all. My favourite after that excellent gay boy whose name I never asked who was the best dance partner I have ever had (Sorry Simon. I love you but Gay guy danced Bollywood!)
This party was happening at the time when I was crushing on the cutest possible guy I have ever seen. What was more important was that this crush had happened after a really really long time.
Unlike me crushing on a guy in school (where I would eventually make contact and create a story) this crush was almost infantile in my expectations from it. While I was crushing on the guy and making jokes about his hotness to my friends (like Arushi and I used to when we were in class 8th for God's sake), for some inexplicable reason, this boy thought I was his really good friend.
While I dance with everyone and anyone, every time this particular boy asked me to dance, it weirdly became a father-infant daughter- standing-on-his-shoes and dancing kind of chaste affair. Not literally ofcourse. Even standing on his shoes would have been too much physical contact for my holy puritan self.
So I am taking one of my many breaks and trying to hog the music, this angel comes up to me. He has had a few drinks, he leans down from his majestic height and comes very close to my face and says "Devika will you do something for me ?" I am apoplectic by now and I have turned completely red and I stammer of course yes - he looks so earnestly at me and says "please let me play one song, I promise you will love it. "
It was mortifying. It was so anti-climactic it needs a new genre. I felt ridiculous and light headed all at the same time.

Unfortunately, crushes don't last. He has asked me to atleast 5 parties in the last 2 months and I have not had the desire to attend a single one. Guess we are friends now.
Oh well. That is all I needed, yet another friend.