My Andromeda... MINE ENEMY...

tI am actually getting popular in blogland cause 1069 times my profile was seen to this post since November 2005. I am NOT bragging. Check my profile to see it! Its true!!

For those who are concerned, this is a Bitch POST against my Best Friend ANDROMEDA, or A.

I love my best friend. I DO. I swear.

So there I was trying to celebrate my friendship with my best friend that has rolled on to its third year. Readers, take note that though she and I met 4 years back, I did not trust her for the first year or so, and considered her the most nyaka (Non Bangaalis read affectatious, but really, this word has no proper translation, if you know what I mean) person I have ever had the misfortune to meet in my sorry existence , that, incidentally I still believe.

So here's my list of complaints. But before, you all must know my woe. My tale of sorrow and pain. Here is a leetle incident. Believe me, we have had many.

Well, yesterday was one of the busiest days I ever had. And the weather did NOT help me a jot. The whole day was HUMID, and I soaked in it with Andromeda, sweat pouring down my body, taking with it my heard drunk morning litre of water. At these points of life I really Hate her, because she has the type of MILKY PEACHY skin that glows when it sweats, and looks like as if she's risen from some Arabian wet dream, all honey and softness. I, on the other hand, look like a ripe PAANTUA whenever I get hot and bothered.

Then we went to LANDMARK to get a CD for her Sister's birthday.

She argued with me for the better part of two hours over what to give her sister, and between X-Men and Lara Croft, she presented me with a fit of sulks when I asked if she would like Charlie's Angels.

And then was the part when at LANDMARK I went orgasmic over The Simoquin Prophesies and Mr. Pratchett, she looked and dismissed them with a bored... "WHO?"

And then came the time where she left me at the metro station and I had to wait for two hours before I got back home (at this point I might add that normally it takes only half-an-hour to get back).

Not only this.

My complaints are -

1. She does not return my books in time, and when she does, I find them marked with icky pink marker.

2. She cannot control her laughter. Once she starts giggling, she does not stop. And when she giggles, she shakes. And her body moves like a mass of pale jel-o, waiting to explode.

3. Flirting is like her second nature. It comes to her as naturally like a newly hatched duckling to water. Be one or a hundred years of age, no one is immune to Andromeda

4. BABY. The word was made for her. She Bawls, She Screams, She Throws a tantrum if I forget to bring her cherry wine lipgloss, or say no when she wants to walk ten kilometres on a May afternoon. BUT I HATE IT when she talks baby, mumbling out just to look pretty.

5. And I hate her on the phone, talking nineteen to dozen to her Boyfriend for ages while I look around, scratch my ear and in short, get bored out of my numb scull.

6. I hate her when she hogs my stuff, not using them herself and not allowing me to use them as well.

7. And I hate it when she does her lip job... sticking it out and going " BOO HOO HOO".... This girl does not cry "WAAAAH", she goes Boo hooo....

Et cetera Et cetera Et cetera

Yes. I am Spoiling for a fight with her. Its been three years and no showdown. Real couples have showdowns. Memorable fights.

*sigh*

I'll have to give up on that dream of living together and opening a lingerie shop called "Sin Creation" with her.

Oh well. I am short of candidates. Audition anyone????