Now I realise
Yesterday was an interesting day that transitioned into an interesting morning.
Last night I met John Abraham.
Let me rewind a little bit and tell you about the boring parts of my day too, you gotta earn that meeting with JA.
So I woke up, peed and pooped (yay for bowel movements!), showered, ate breakfast, tutored a year eight boy in maths and english, got paid, spent it all on getting my eyebrows threaded and a milk frother from Aldi (!!!), tried on some clothes but they fit hopelessly, caught up with a friend at the shopping centre, walked around mindlessly, parted ways and returned home, had dinner and my nightly cereal and PB and fruit dessert concoction thing and went to Tropfest with my parents. Tropfest was a nice night out. I went in denim shorts and a Slazenger black collared shirt that was in no way attractive. I wore no make up and I quite honestly did not care. I did feel a bit deflated that my hormone-excitement phase had passed and I was not finding anyone physically attractive nor did I care much about my own appearance.
It was a decent enough evening with some nice enough films (past years have been better) and some nice enough weather. I wasn't phased, as you can tell.
This essence followed me into the night, and only now, the next day, I realised what just happened. Cue hashtag-fangirl OMGAAH omg wow cray cray xoxoxo
This isn't working.
I tried.
So we went to pick up my sister from her friend's house, who just happened to be hosting the Bollywood actor John Abraham and his wife Priya for dinner. I knew I was going but did not care to wear a bit of make up or some nice clothes. I don't know what I was trying to prove because I do feel good in nice clothes. It was some kind of "I am not dressing up for no man" thought that overtook my mind.
Yatta Yatta, I went in and somehow got a spot at the dinner table and got introduced to the famous couple. The star looked tired, but I gotta say, HOT as ever. This guy is about 45 and he may as well not wear any makeup on screen (well unless he was wearing make up last night?) because he looks amazing as is. His wife looked even more tired but she was polite. Why am I even going on about this?
I guess I could just revel in the whole fangirl phase and be excited that I met a celebrity, but no. Instead, I feel some sort of competition with this 45 year old man. Like I need to be like him- he's smart and attractive. He's fit and uses his brain! I love this. I want to be pretty and intelligent!
Why do I think he is intelligent? He has produced movies that tackle real issues and said he prefers to watch some perceptive English movies over the dramatic Indian ones with no head or tail. This, I know, is a huge generalisation and I wish I could say it wasn't true, but there are rarely Hindi films that place an importance on the reality of human emotion rather than dramatising it with lights and music. Mr Abraham (I can't say John, it should be "Uncle") would, like me, like to see Bollywood grow into something meaningful. I do enjoy drama, colours and music, they're great, but I also like to see the real human experience in this art, in it's raw, crude and natural state. I do wish Indian cinema could be like that. I value brains. Another reason I valued his brains was that he appreciated and encouraged higher education. And he immerses himself in social causes that include health, animals and humanity. Maybe he just sold his star status really well? He and his wife were polite; I don't imagine you can be particularly rude when you first meet someone.
Why do I think he's "pretty?"
Well... :3)
Yes I used the first Google Image- what you gon' do?
I still don't know the purpose of this blog post; maybe so I can post this?
And this?
Oh yes and why was it an interesting morning?
I got an ECG done where I had to wear no clothes above my waist but did not care. Now that I think of it, I usually get ECGs done by women only. This was not a woman.
My heart rate is still low and QRS interval amplitude should probably be bigger.
Fuck you, ED.
Last night I met John Abraham.
Let me rewind a little bit and tell you about the boring parts of my day too, you gotta earn that meeting with JA.
So I woke up, peed and pooped (yay for bowel movements!), showered, ate breakfast, tutored a year eight boy in maths and english, got paid, spent it all on getting my eyebrows threaded and a milk frother from Aldi (!!!), tried on some clothes but they fit hopelessly, caught up with a friend at the shopping centre, walked around mindlessly, parted ways and returned home, had dinner and my nightly cereal and PB and fruit dessert concoction thing and went to Tropfest with my parents. Tropfest was a nice night out. I went in denim shorts and a Slazenger black collared shirt that was in no way attractive. I wore no make up and I quite honestly did not care. I did feel a bit deflated that my hormone-excitement phase had passed and I was not finding anyone physically attractive nor did I care much about my own appearance.
It was a decent enough evening with some nice enough films (past years have been better) and some nice enough weather. I wasn't phased, as you can tell.
This essence followed me into the night, and only now, the next day, I realised what just happened. Cue hashtag-fangirl OMGAAH omg wow cray cray xoxoxo
This isn't working.
I tried.
So we went to pick up my sister from her friend's house, who just happened to be hosting the Bollywood actor John Abraham and his wife Priya for dinner. I knew I was going but did not care to wear a bit of make up or some nice clothes. I don't know what I was trying to prove because I do feel good in nice clothes. It was some kind of "I am not dressing up for no man" thought that overtook my mind.
Yatta Yatta, I went in and somehow got a spot at the dinner table and got introduced to the famous couple. The star looked tired, but I gotta say, HOT as ever. This guy is about 45 and he may as well not wear any makeup on screen (well unless he was wearing make up last night?) because he looks amazing as is. His wife looked even more tired but she was polite. Why am I even going on about this?
I guess I could just revel in the whole fangirl phase and be excited that I met a celebrity, but no. Instead, I feel some sort of competition with this 45 year old man. Like I need to be like him- he's smart and attractive. He's fit and uses his brain! I love this. I want to be pretty and intelligent!
Why do I think he is intelligent? He has produced movies that tackle real issues and said he prefers to watch some perceptive English movies over the dramatic Indian ones with no head or tail. This, I know, is a huge generalisation and I wish I could say it wasn't true, but there are rarely Hindi films that place an importance on the reality of human emotion rather than dramatising it with lights and music. Mr Abraham (I can't say John, it should be "Uncle") would, like me, like to see Bollywood grow into something meaningful. I do enjoy drama, colours and music, they're great, but I also like to see the real human experience in this art, in it's raw, crude and natural state. I do wish Indian cinema could be like that. I value brains. Another reason I valued his brains was that he appreciated and encouraged higher education. And he immerses himself in social causes that include health, animals and humanity. Maybe he just sold his star status really well? He and his wife were polite; I don't imagine you can be particularly rude when you first meet someone.
Why do I think he's "pretty?"
Well... :3)
I still don't know the purpose of this blog post; maybe so I can post this?
 |
| Aren't I hot? Oh yeah also the dude in the middle. |
And this?
 |
| #nomakeup #alleyesonhim #noonelookingatme #spotlightstolen |
Oh yes and why was it an interesting morning?
I got an ECG done where I had to wear no clothes above my waist but did not care. Now that I think of it, I usually get ECGs done by women only. This was not a woman.
My heart rate is still low and QRS interval amplitude should probably be bigger.
Fuck you, ED.
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