Friday, April 11, 2014

Of paneer and pretentions

Life has been so routine lately, it hasn't been exactly conducive for any compelling, entertaining gumption on the wrong side of right. For a fleeting moment I was worried I'd lost my ability to be judgmental. This post has mercifully disproved that hypothesis and I feel all happy and bouncy deep inside.

That was my sugarcoated disclaimer in case you overlooked it. I urge you to finish reading if you feel the urge to throw 'sanctimonious' or any of it's cousins in my face.

I love being in the company of pretentious people, occasionally. Having honed the fine art of seeing through that veneer, I find it quite amusing. 

I think most urban youngbies sport some degree of pretentiousness at some point in their lives. It's like a mild case of acne. Or tonsillitis. Or conjunctivitis. We've all had it. I may even have unwittingly been a propagator of pretentiousness in my teens. Years later, hello reality check, and I've moved onto more humble pastures. Which is why I can preach, in the same way junkies who go to rehabs and clean up their acts preach about refraining from drugs. No offense intended to anyone on that analogy.

Now I even go that extra mile to egg on a pretentious oddball to bare his or her pretentiousness. A girl's gotta have some fun!

One such joy is being around people, young women specifically, not that I'm sexiest (or ageist or any other iest with a negative connotation), who're new to the world of binge drinking. 

I've realized the sub-group I'm interested in is either:

a) those who grew up in overly protective domestic setting where social drinking was as far fetched from reality as mixed gender pool parties and now suddenly find themselves armed with the prerogative of calling out the cheap wine from the expensive one
b) those who're in a relationship with or married to alcohol snobs
c) those who attempt to compensate for something lacking by subtly bringing up their indulgences in any possible combinations of alcohol brands, friends, hot spots and events. Here's the problem. When people throw alcohol brands at me in a slightly haughty manner, all I can hear is paneer (warped brain, don't ask) and it makes it all the more ridiculous. 
i.e. I watched Knocked Up with Kim but the best part was sneaking in the paneer cutlets (champagne) in the theatre.
i.e. Kourtney and I spent a much needed relaxing day together. At the winery. Drinking yummy paneertini (apple martinis). All day long.
i.e. Khloe is helping me babysit while my hubby travels. So good to bond over paneer manchurian (old monk) I tell you.
See how wicked it sounds in my head?
d) those who use it to bump up their perceived coolness quotient.

If you've been drinking since Adam, none of this would apply to you luckily.

This post comes from a slightly dark place given my extremely low threshold for alcohol. It's not that I haven't given it a fair shot. I have, just as much as the fair shot I've given to snowboarding or baking or wearing eye makeup without ruining it immediately. But it hasn't happened for me. Even the slightest bit makes my head spin and all I can think of 
wistfully are my PJs and comforter and turning in for the night. Which is why at cocktail events, I get through the entire soiree holding the same glass pretending it doesn't exist. They say you must let your reds breathe. That's essentially what I do, while entertaining myself with those free flowing pretensions around.

All right, I'm off. It's almost dinner time... time to pretend I can cook well.


No comments: