Ragamuffin

i just wanna party. you should be here.

Anyone who’s been keeping up with me lately knows I’ve been craving Indian food like mad. LIKE MAD I TELL YOU!

Why haven’t I fulfilled this craving? I honestly cannot tell you. I think it has something to do with the fact that I know there’s a $9 all-you-can-eat Indian buffet at lunch time in Pasadena, but I’m never in Pasadena at lunchtime. Or I’m never hungry at that time. Also, I have a strange feeling I might actually be craving Ethiopian food disguised as Indian food. This is when we get into big trouble because I don’t want to indulge the wrong craving. So, I’ll just have a glass of wine instead.

Somehow though, I think my desire for cardamom and garam masala and other heady spices seeped into my cultural tastes as well because I have been swept up in this song for the past days.

I literally just listened to it three times in a row. And danced by myself. In my pjs. Normal.

Maybe it’s just because I’m so tired from running around too and fro between jobs, school, internships and social engagements or something but the minute this song comes up on my album suddenly I’m transported. My brain shuts off. I’m inside the music. I find myselfI attempting to emulate the Bollywood style neck-rolls and sexy hip-sways while most probably looking like an octopus while I dance. I look like a damn fool, but I don’t care.

NOTE: my 10 years of ballet classes gave me no useful moves by way of modern dancing. Pirouettes and plies get you nowhere in a club.

So….I’ll dance. To this song and others like it (like Bad Girls by M.I.A., which I somehow connect to this song). But, only by myself in my room. Cause no one wants to see this noodle hit the club.