Midnight Madness

Be Thou Warned: This post may be too ‘girly’ at places for your ‘taste’. So if you’re a total pig then read no further.
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No, I didn’t turn into a werewolf and scare the hell out of S (sister).

No, I didn’t start sleepwalking and break half the things in my house while doing such a thing.

No, I didn’t go to a zombie-haunted house to give the zombies a fright (heh, that would be fun though).

So, what was it that I did at midnight? Okay… I just freaked out and did what I do best- act like a lunatic!

It was around 11.45 in the night, S was busy doing something online while I was getting bored in the background. So I decided to clean out my clothes shelf which was desperately screaming out to me--- “DO something about me you..you..you……!”

So, I decided to oblige and set down to removing all the clothes and arranging them and blah blah. Everytime I indulge in this activity, I find something that totally makes me happy and this time it was my old school skirt!! I couldn’t find the shirt neither could I find any other set of uniform. I then remembered, while packing (before moving) Mom had warned me to leave all my ‘unnecessary’ stuff back which could be given away to the bai but I had slipped in my beloved skirt and given away the rest. Oh how I ADORE this skirt. Once in school while I was hanging out in the corridor between classes, this really scary teacher whom I didn’t like was doing her ‘rounds’. When she saw me, she was like—

“Your skirt is like one foot long! You must get another one stiched!”

To which I replied—

“Sorry but it actually is about 1.3 feet long and I won’t be here much longer so I won’t be getting any more skirts stiched!” *smiles*

Her expression was somewhat puzzled and amused at the same time! :D

That was my favourite piece of uniform that I ever owned! I was so overcome with emotions that I even took a snap of it to put it up here. *sigh*

After the skirt-gazing and skirt-photo-clicking I continued with my pursuit of rearraging my clothes when I came across this absolutely warm, fuzzy black shirt with a little butterfly on it! I wore that and clicked like a thousand pictures of myself where one could easily pass me off for a sleep-deprived zombie (er, I think sleep-deprived is contained in the word zombie, but still). All this while S was blithely unaware of my adventures right behind her back and was doing her work peacefully.

Then I came across my wrap around skirts which I hardly wear. Anyway, they were there- all washed and ironed and neatly(?) kept. I started messing around with one of them. I tied the little stringies around my neck and started yelling “Woohoooo here comes Superwoman!” while performing an act of mock flying to which S nonchalantly replied with a practised yawn (she’s pretty used to me acting like a mental-asylum-patient-on-the-loose).

After the flying around ceased, a brilliant idea struck me. I wore the wrap around skirt in an absurd way which was held together by a banana clip on the back (heh) and the stringies at the neck. A pink shiny diva-like belt was worn on the waist to keep the frills and folds of the skirt-turned-dress together. 6-inch heels were worn. Holy mother of God! I asked S to turn around and told her this was my mock-red-carpet outfit. I quickly justified such behaviour of mine by saying I had been looking at fugly people too often these days! S gushed—

“OMG! It seriously looks like those things they wear!”

Then I started posing with one leg in front of the other, waving out, flashing fake smiles and catwalking around and still managing to look perfectly sane for the first time in the evening! S responded to all this diva-act with—

“OMG! You look like Malaika Arora!”

Thengew berry muds!! (I assume everybody has received and read that forward by now!)

No. That was a serious compliment, really! Hee. I do kind of do like Malaika. So, you know…

After all this I am giving fashion designing a serious thought. Erm. No, on second thoughts, I shouldn’t become a fashion designer. If I do, my models will all end up walking the ramp in wrap around skirts and PJs!! :D

All this activity has left me a little drained (did I mention that before all this cleaning started, I was busy dancing away to glory?). Old age is really getting to me! Okay, I take the last sentence back! It’s high time my PBT (Post Birthday Trauma) passed. Okay. Yes. No more PBT. Smiles :)