Just read about a theatrical rendition of Billy Elliot doing really well. The movie was an absolute marvel, and I'm sure this version was even better. A tiny part of me has always loved the stage - the lights, the makeup, the costumes, the pre-show jitters...all of it is worth it when you see the crowd stand up at the end and burst into applause. I've had the pleasure of tasting the world of theatre when I was in high school, and it still rolls around sweetly in my mouth. But I know I haven't truly lived until I've seen a performance on Broadway, let alone star in one. There's a little superstar in every one of us - we dance in our rooms because no one can see us, and we sing in the car because no one can hear us. If only theatre was big over here, then maybe I could parch my thirst for the arts.


Happy Pancake Day to everyone.

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I am really proud of this blog. When I started it back in November last year I had no idea that it would become such a focal point of my life. Of all the blogs that I have, this is by far my favorite and my most personal. Friends have logged on here and asked me so many questions afterward - when did you know? For how long? But are you sure? Nevertheless, I welcome such things with open arms. 80% of me is a diva, but the other 20% is someone who has their feet firmly on the ground. There have been numerous hurdles in my life, but I'm glad I always believed that things would be good for me in the future. For all it's worth, I'm thankful for all the people who have made me what I am today (I know I don't say thanks often enough). I am blessed to have a select number of people in my life who I love very much and would do almost anything for. You are what makes my world complete, and I would never imagine life with out you all. Thank you for everthing.


My father asked if I am gay. I said, Does it matter? He said, No not really. I said, Yes. He said, Get out of my house. I guess it mattered.

My friend asked if I am gay. I said, Does it matter? He said, No not really. I said, Yes. He said, Don't call me your friend. I guess it mattered.

My boss asked if I am gay. I said, Does it matter? He said, No not really. I said, Yes. He said, You're fired faggot. I guess it mattered.

My lover asked if I love him. I said, Does it matter? He said, Yes. I told him, I love you. He said, Let me hold you in my arms. For the first time in my life something mattered.

My God asked me, Do you love yourself? I said, Does it matter? God said, Yes. I said, How can I love myself? I am gay. God said, That is the way I have made you. Nothing again will ever matter.

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Never trust a picture. Screw the whole 'thousand-words' analogy. I stepped into Starbucks yesterday and to my delight I saw a huge poster for a new beverage: "Premium Hot Chocolate". Now the thing looked absolutely divine, and before I knew it I was standing in line waiting to place my order. After patiently waiting for 5 minutes, I finally got my cup, filled to the brim with whipped cream. After slurping away most of the cream, I was waiting for the thick, lucsious taste of the hot chocolate, but instead my lips met what was clearly their regular hot chocolate, just two shades darker. After about 10 minutes, my 'premium' hot chocolate resembled a cup of watered-down brown paint. Never again will I fall prey to the evil demons of Starbucks Marketing. (Unless of course, there's a guy in shorts holding a cup of coffee).


D, I still have faith in you, and I really miss you.

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WARNING: The following post is rated NSFW (Not Safe For Work)

He was in his mid thirties and seemed genuinely helpless. He politely asked me to sit behind the wheel and start his car while he attempted to fix something under the hood. I slid into the driver's seat and shut the door. I turned the key in the ignition and the car revved up but nothing happened. He motioned to me and I tried to start it again, but still nothing. He came over to the driver's side and leaned in through the window to check if the gear was in neutral. His left hand was resting on my knee for support as he jiggled the gear around while I held down the clutch with my foot. He went back to the front of the hood and motioned to me again, and I turned the key. Still nothing. He leaned back in through the window and this time his hand was on my thigh. I sat perfectly still in the driver's seat, thinking that nothing was out of the ordinary. Again he went to the front of the car and I fruitlessly turned the key again. This time when he leaned in, his hand was higher up my thigh and I felt my heartbeat quicken. At the time I didn't know if it was out of fear or lust, but I realized how easy a prey I must have looked walking home that night. When he leaned in again, his hand moved from my thigh directly to my crotch and he held it there for a few seconds before going back to the front of the car. The next few times he leaned in his hand rested longer and began to feel and stroke what he knew was there. Soon he had given up going to the front and I knew that he had me where he wanted me. His breathing had become quick and hoarse and he leaned in for a kiss, but I pulled away at the sharp smell of alcohol. Before I could do anything his hand was inside my jeans, and he was breathing hard, almost directly into my face. I just thought what would happen if anyone would walk by; what they would think as they saw this delicate scene unfold. You faggot, you fucking faggot go and get screwed somewhere else. I asked him to go check under the hood one more time if he could fix the car, and surprisingly he obliged. When he got to the front of the car again I opened the door and started walking away. I could not command my legs to run; my mind was not in synch with my body until I was back home standing under the shower feeling dirty and invaded.

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I saw a rather amusing thing driving home from work today - a cop had pulled over a gigantic sewage truck for speeding. I bet the driver was thinking "Oh Shit!" Distrubingly enough, on the top of the tank was written "sweet water" - what the hell? In my opinion, water coming from something that big is going to be anything but sweet.

My beloved readers, I have an announcement to make. I...am....pregnant. Yeap. I'm pretty sure of it. When I wake up in the morning I have a terrible burning sensation in my bladder and I get into an extra-foul man-hating mood. Not to mention every single person I meet finds some way to royally piss me off and ends up talking to my 3-inch heels. Plus, I'm constantly hogging something or the other at my desk. Yesterday I engulfed a chunk of lasagne, 3 chocolate donuts, an entire packet of chocolate biscuits, one Twix bar, and a cup of hot chocolate. Today's lunch was no different, and I started to get drowsy at my desk very fast. Fortunately, a bar of Toblerone roused my spirits for the last half hour until I could drag my ass back home.

Looking forward to this weekend actually, as I'll be with fun company. I haven't had some fun in a loong time, and this is well over due. And just so you know Al, you have a really sexy accent.

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I really wish I was back on vacation. I had such a fantastic time last year on my trip to India that I can't wait to go there again. True, I was born and raised here, but it still doesn't hurt to go back and look at your roots. The sheer beauty and magnitude of the places in India totally took my breath away. Can't wait to do that trip again! And today's newspaper gave me 25 fantastic reasons for booking a flight to India in the next 2 hours - Grasim Mr India 2006 is going to start soon! (where the hell were these guys when I was there?)

And who's that banshee in the middle with my men??

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Happy Valentine's Day to all the men in my life, and a very special greeting to the man out there who gives me a reason to smile every day.

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Since I will be insanely busy today, I thought I'd blog up a picture of one of my all time favorite TV actors, Jason Behr. Looking at his high-school photo its amazing what a glass of Ovaltine a day can do.



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The problem with being smitten with someone is that your brain ceases to function properly. You're so preoccupied with thinking about that person that you fail to notice the chap who's peeking over your shoulder at your mobile as you merrily SMS away to that special someone. Talk about breach of privacy.

Watched Memoirs Of A Geisha today and it was a fantastic movie (with great company). Beautiful cinematography and an equally beautiful storyline. The movie also brought back memories of Emmet dressing up as a Geisha in an episode of Queer as Folk. God how I miss that show...

Thanks D, for a great evening out and giving me another reason to smile with you.


P.S Tampura rocks!

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I think I have hit a new low. Today I found myself lusting after the Lebanese butcher at Choithrams. Who was wearing the world's whitest and tightest pair of pants. Now these pants were tight. I mean oh-my-god-I-can-see-your-willy-wonka tight. Not that there was much to see, mind you.

Just like it was during Chirstmas, most of the shops here have got Valentine's Day Specials going on. Everything from restaurants to flower shops have some damn thing going on. And what am I doing on this glorious Valentine's day? Stay posted to find out - right now Cupid can take an arrow and shove it up his ass.


Today I thank the good lord for hi5.com

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There's something so mesmerising about a suit. No matter how crappy a guy's dress sense can be, pop him into a suit and he's a regular Casanova. When I've seen friends of mine in suits I've literally gaped at how hot they suddenly look (But no drool - that's where I draw the line).

Today I watched the ladies on Oprah get all excited over...free macadamia nuts and chocolate cake. Boy, it sure doesn't take much to get an audience excited these days. I've seen the widest array of gifts given out on Oprah's show - from cars to teddy bears to macadamia nuts. I wish someone would gift me a car. I'd even settle for the damn nuts. And speaking of an audience, Colin Farell's home movie was a total disappointment. There was some chick in it! Thumbs down from me.

Heading home today in traffic I invented a new game - the "What would you do if you had a rich husband"* game. Basically, you imagine what it would be like to have a fabulously rich husband and all the wonderful things you could buy with his money. Money is the best kind of paper there is, in my opinion. If you stand patiently at the bank at around 4am when the armored trucks come around, you might get a whiff of freshly printed money. It smells all minty and addictive. I bet spoilt folks smoke money. No tobacco for them, just roll up a $100 bill and puff away to kingdom come.


*not to be confused with the "What would you do if you had a rich toy boy" game.

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I just finished watching Brokeback Mountain, and I was in tears at the end. All I can say now is that I don't care if I stay single for the rest of my life or if I fall into the arms of Mr Right tomorrow. I fell in love once in my life, and I'm happy that I did.

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