Throwback: Christmas Come Early

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Photo by freestocks.org from Pexels

Written on September 9, 2008

Yeah, we've all heard that phrase a million times over. But for the first time in my life I'm wishing it would come true. That Christmas would come early, and I'd go to Dubai early.

Teacher's Day has come and gone. Over here, we had this sad-ass, for crying out loud, program that was good by the school standards.

Over there... I'm not saying much. The pics and vids of all my friends rockin' it up has left me speechless. Whether with rage, or tears, or joy at their fortune is for you to decide.

Anyway, following a nightmarish first term, I've kicked back and I'm enjoying a 10 day hiatus before what promises to be an even nightmarish second term. Ah, the life. I plan to do a hell lot of writing these hols, get my hair cut, call my friends, pierce my ears, and go online every single day. So far, it's working parfaitment.

School's great. Well, that would be stretching a point. A hell lot of points, in fact. But, whatever. 
I'm rapidly building up the reputation of a slut. In conservative Kerala, where the accepted method for the members of one sex to call the others is by poking them with a pen or anything else handy, (no direct contact), and where the only kid to have got to second base is deemed the basest of base (pun intended), the definition of slut would encompass the following points:
  • A girl who speaks openly with guys.
  • A girl who is not ashamed of being seen the only one talking to a group of guys.
  • A girl who is open (to talk) about things like sex.
  • A girl who wears jeans with a short top. (Shorts and three-quarter pants are Unheard Of).
  • A girl who...

Never mind. Safe to say that none of this comes even close to the real thing. And anyway, my feminist instincts protest that any kind of girl should be called a slut anyway. I mean, if she wants to make out with a dozen guys, why shouldn't she? It's alright for guys, isn't it?
I mean, I used to know this girl. Before I met her, she was pronounced a SLUT by my best friend (a guy). When I figured out who she was, I was shocked. She was cute, well dressed, polite, capable at anything and everything... She also happened to have had quite a number of boyfriends.

So what?

But of course, that's the way Things Are. One doesn't change Things that Are. C'est impossible.
Anyway, I've seen quite a few cute guys here, and all my instincts scream DEVOUR!
I guess I'm pretty much something of a maneater. A Maneater With A Soft Heart. I can't bear the heartbreak.
As it is, there's one Broken Heart telling me he loves me and when do I come online, and can I please call him and here's his no. (Complete with international code).
And I dunno. I thought I did love him. But maybe I just haven't found the right guy yet, but as it is, I can't focus on one guy for even a week. I'm worse than the average adolescent guy in this respect. Hmph!
Anyway, it's time to shut down. I need to get home and make a lot of calls. And then sit and wish upon the stars.
Gotta go roll up the carpets. ;D So, cia0, and cheers to man-eating sluts. And sucks to my new Principal, who thinks Harry Potter created black magic.

Aw, look at all the budding feminism. And I thought I was a man-eater. How cute. The girl I speak about is someone I've remained friends till this day - the girl I've crushed on since tenth grade, and the one that caused me to realize I'm bisexual.
It is constantly jarring to me that Mr. Broken Heart continues to pop up in these mentions. It all seems very long ago. I guess the moral of the story here is that even if you don't particularly care about someone, if they've all you've got to talk about, then they're all you're going to talk about. 
Oh, and going to Dubai in December never materialized - my parents decided to come to India instead. (Ugh.)

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