Reporting out on the progress (or the lack of it) on the Pootle List through an imaginary conversation with the Pretend Interviewer (PI) and me (EP).
PI: We heard you are quivering with excitement. What has caused all the hullabaloo in the guava orchard?
EP: We are preparing for a Frozen theme party for my seven year old niece. I.love.birthday.parties. I love my birthday, your birthday, his birthday, their birthday, strange-person-down-the-road’s child’s birthday. I have missed my niece’s for a couple of years now, so all the more reason to be wildly excited and pull out all stops.
PI: Why ever did she pick Frozen as the theme? It is so unimaginative!
EP: She is a good kid. Who had to be forced to agree to throw a big fat blue and white party *interestedly and virtuously examines Snowflake boards on Pinterest and pretends she has nothing to do with it*. Come on, it may not be legal to turn seven without having a Frozen birthday party!
PI: Disney makes movies so that a) there can be merchandise b) there can be themed birthday parties and c) they can reinforce all sorts of stereotypes about body sizes and shapes, skin color, and gender preferences. How can you be a willing party to all of this?
EP: I magnanimously forgive Disney. As long as they continue to design characters like Olaf and keep the soundtrack coming. Especially, as I hope that they are working on fixing c. The rest can be justified as capitalism and materialism induced by consuming one too many fondant cake topper.
PI: Why on earth do you like birthday parties so much?
EP: What is there to not like?! The excitement of presents being exchanged, games galore, helium balloons to get high on, stringing up streamers, blowing out the candles, raucously singing happy birthday, screaming sugar-crazed children, and all the cake. *gets misty eyed while dreaming of the mocha cake she had on every birthday, straight through teenage*
PI: Since you insisted on the theme, what has your contribution to the party organization been?
EP: I made Olaf finger puppets (out of felt). These double up as pencil toppers and will accompany (carry) the invites. Though the silicone glue has left me with peeling fingertips (still blue), I had such a blast making them. Thank you, the Idea Room, for the template.
PI: Talking about plump snowmen, how and why did your stomach pootle into trouble over the past few days? *Smirk face*
EP: We were in Kolkata, the haven of street food and tummy bugs. The dratted stomach fraternized, in the most horrible way possible, with the amoebic low life; and then got all sulky and upset.
PI: That did not stop you from having a trillion liters of beer in the last week and all that rosé on India’s Independence Day. How else did you celebrate the occasion?
EP: It is called flushing the toxins *burps in a decidedly unladylike manner*. ID was spent lazing at a friend’s – she has converted this gorgeous conservatory on the terrace/roof of the high-rise where she lives. So the day was marked by the clinking of glasses, a darts tournament which I was at the bottom of – I had decidedly rosé spectacles on – and we baked whole wheat pizzas. Apart from friends and family, we had for company, her cranky 35 yo oven, which refused to listen to any temperature instructions and randomly switched itself on or off. Since it did not try to burn me even once, and it baked all fine, we parted on good terms.
PI: How do pizzas mark Indian Independence?!
EP: The colors of the Italian flag and the Indian flag are similar for a reason. Or so I believe. And it was the only way that I was going to make any progress on my bucket list.
PI: Ah, the pootle list! Whatever happened to it? There has been negative progress on reaching your ideal weight. The yoga studio people called us. They are planning to file a missing report. Any message you want us to convey to your Yoga Teacher?