So I messaged a good friend or two the other day. "Can I ask you a retarded question?" One of them calls back rolling sideways laughing, asking what my question was.
As part of the procrastination project in accordance with my approaching exams now breathing fire against my neck, I was thinking about my not-so-approaching 30th Birthday.
I'm not much into celebrating birthdays and have mostly, usually felt annoyed at whoever has made a big deal out of it in the past, this time, I really want to throw a party. Very select few.
So I told him and he suggested a few things, a drunk cricket match is something he's had once and I thought it was howlarious but since I can't as much as lift the bat and don't fancy packing guests off with Gatorade/ ORS and a mean heatstroke (his birthday is in the winters, mine in the middle of the scorching summers), we scratched that. He disapproved beach and I agreed, what if you run out of supplies or people fight? It's a long drive back. Then he suggested a festival which perked my ears up a bit. Since I am so wonderful and lovable, I'd love to have a festival dedicated to myself. Hell yeah, about time! So there can be crabbing the night before where we can be on a boat when the clock strikes 12, and then brunch the following morning leading up to a party the night of the day itself. "It could be a theme party!" he exclaimed. "Anything you'd like, The Beatles, Music, 1980s whatever you like"
1980s kinda stuck, shared the idea with another friend who was all for it.
So 1980s it was.
So what about 1980s. Well. I was born, isn't that royal enough?
Apparently no. Compulsive constant googling didn't get me to the Timeline exclaiming this day Mademoiselle Hareem S Bhatti graced the earth. Who says internet has everything.
The sad part came in when I started trying to figure out what was up in our part of the world at that time.
The rest of the world, sure! There were knuckle gloves, off shoulder T shirts, Neon colours, Rock star stuck out voluminous hair, complete websites dedicated to separate decades of the world, clearly stating food trends, theme party ideas including menu ideas, clothes, make up, accessories, music, everything one can imagine.
Pakistan 1980s. Nothing much. Almost like we never existed at the time or were dead, more or less.
HULLOOO! The music, the events, the colour, the food, the ICE CREAM PARLOURS, the TV Channels or lack thereof, the lives we lead. The FMCGs we swore by, BMX, DUX and BP!
There was so much! Under Zia, the things we managed to do to keep our vibrant selves alive. It was amazing!
The long conversation where the phone bobbed between my mom, sister and Dad (I use a capital D coz he's big) trying to come up with everything 80s. Rest of the world as well as our end. Mostly Lahore. Don't know much about Karachi in the 80s, just the glories of 60s and 70s is what we read of. I asked them to make a PK version of an 80s mood board and was snorted at and brushed off. FINE! I'll do it my way!
So I have decided. At least one post a week for covering the 80s in Pakistan. Anything I'd like to write about. Basically means everything.
Let's bring the Pakistani 80s to the interweb.
As for my birthday. I think instead of 1980s as a theme I'll place nostalgia as theme. Entering my thirties I think it's time for me to look back (not that anything keeps me from doing that almost ALL of the time) and sift through memories, come out with the most comforting ones, the smell of Anai's' Anai's' because my Kindergarten classroom always smelled of it (AND bananas and milk), the smell of earth and khass and the chiks (bamboo curtains) in sweltering summers while we listened to Nazia Hassan and ogled at Vital Signs; so much more. Maybe I'll change my mind and choose another theme but Nostalgia it is for now.
Just to remind you of how totally awesome I am and perhaps this is why, Princess Grace of Monaco passed away the year I was born, so I was sent in to fill in for the princess the world was short of.
Also here is why I am so eccentric!
"Larry Walters on July 2nd ties 42 weather balloons to a lawn chair and flies as high as 16 thousand feet before shooting the balloons with a pellet gun and landing about 90 minutes later. The FAA fined him $1,500."
DELIGHTFUL!
As part of the procrastination project in accordance with my approaching exams now breathing fire against my neck, I was thinking about my not-so-approaching 30th Birthday.
I'm not much into celebrating birthdays and have mostly, usually felt annoyed at whoever has made a big deal out of it in the past, this time, I really want to throw a party. Very select few.
So I told him and he suggested a few things, a drunk cricket match is something he's had once and I thought it was howlarious but since I can't as much as lift the bat and don't fancy packing guests off with Gatorade/ ORS and a mean heatstroke (his birthday is in the winters, mine in the middle of the scorching summers), we scratched that. He disapproved beach and I agreed, what if you run out of supplies or people fight? It's a long drive back. Then he suggested a festival which perked my ears up a bit. Since I am so wonderful and lovable, I'd love to have a festival dedicated to myself. Hell yeah, about time! So there can be crabbing the night before where we can be on a boat when the clock strikes 12, and then brunch the following morning leading up to a party the night of the day itself. "It could be a theme party!" he exclaimed. "Anything you'd like, The Beatles, Music, 1980s whatever you like"
1980s kinda stuck, shared the idea with another friend who was all for it.
So 1980s it was.
So what about 1980s. Well. I was born, isn't that royal enough?
Apparently no. Compulsive constant googling didn't get me to the Timeline exclaiming this day Mademoiselle Hareem S Bhatti graced the earth. Who says internet has everything.
The sad part came in when I started trying to figure out what was up in our part of the world at that time.
The rest of the world, sure! There were knuckle gloves, off shoulder T shirts, Neon colours, Rock star stuck out voluminous hair, complete websites dedicated to separate decades of the world, clearly stating food trends, theme party ideas including menu ideas, clothes, make up, accessories, music, everything one can imagine.
Pakistan 1980s. Nothing much. Almost like we never existed at the time or were dead, more or less.
HULLOOO! The music, the events, the colour, the food, the ICE CREAM PARLOURS, the TV Channels or lack thereof, the lives we lead. The FMCGs we swore by, BMX, DUX and BP!
There was so much! Under Zia, the things we managed to do to keep our vibrant selves alive. It was amazing!
The long conversation where the phone bobbed between my mom, sister and Dad (I use a capital D coz he's big) trying to come up with everything 80s. Rest of the world as well as our end. Mostly Lahore. Don't know much about Karachi in the 80s, just the glories of 60s and 70s is what we read of. I asked them to make a PK version of an 80s mood board and was snorted at and brushed off. FINE! I'll do it my way!
So I have decided. At least one post a week for covering the 80s in Pakistan. Anything I'd like to write about. Basically means everything.
Let's bring the Pakistani 80s to the interweb.
As for my birthday. I think instead of 1980s as a theme I'll place nostalgia as theme. Entering my thirties I think it's time for me to look back (not that anything keeps me from doing that almost ALL of the time) and sift through memories, come out with the most comforting ones, the smell of Anai's' Anai's' because my Kindergarten classroom always smelled of it (AND bananas and milk), the smell of earth and khass and the chiks (bamboo curtains) in sweltering summers while we listened to Nazia Hassan and ogled at Vital Signs; so much more. Maybe I'll change my mind and choose another theme but Nostalgia it is for now.
Just to remind you of how totally awesome I am and perhaps this is why, Princess Grace of Monaco passed away the year I was born, so I was sent in to fill in for the princess the world was short of.
Also here is why I am so eccentric!
"Larry Walters on July 2nd ties 42 weather balloons to a lawn chair and flies as high as 16 thousand feet before shooting the balloons with a pellet gun and landing about 90 minutes later. The FAA fined him $1,500."
DELIGHTFUL!
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Every snowflake yearns to touch the ground, to melt, to change it's state, be something it isn't yet, whether it's water, ice or a snowball. Change is but a constant. Keep Commenting...let me know what you think.
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