Paranoid Or Overjoyed?

Dear Diary,

        I don’t exactly know how to describe this day, which has been the best of all the long, boring days I’ve ever come across – no doubt about it. Anyway, I would try my best to express the flowing speed of the ocean of emotion I’m drowned into.

So it was just another ordinary day of the month. All I was thinking about throughout the day was the dinner I was going to have in my favorite restaurant that very night. Even those stupid T.V. ads about food gave me creeps somewhere down in the den of my bean bag, er, stomach. For once I gave up looking at the clock every 15 minutes to see if it was 10 yet. You must be thinking about me being a foodie, but the real fact is that I don’t usually have time and therefore I don’t usually go to that restaurant. Somehow, ripping my eyes off glancing at the clock in the other room, the day finally passed.

Tonight was the big night.

You won’t believe me, but I dressed up faster than the speed of light. (I never waste time on thinking about how I look). I had been starving since the very morning and it pushed me into a dream-like trance. It’s not that I’m active all the time, but I was particularly feeling drowsy that night. That always happens to me, urgh. I don’t know if this diary is sounding quite boring or saddening. It’s just that I’m not trying to be funny. And when I don’t try to be funny, I get especially annoying.

A few moments later, I found myself at the back-seat of the car when the bloody speed-breaker broke that beautiful burger-dream-trance. Speed-breakers are supposed to break speed, not dreams. Huh.

I never knew what heaven had planned for me.

I finally felt my car come to a stop, and I stepped out of the car displaying my crushed jeans to everyone in the parking lot. Those people were not just people – they were stunning and well-dressed people. I didn’t care about their staring eyes – they were aliens to me, after all. All I wished for was the lift to not stop on the way.

I saw those big letters-turned-into-lights carved on the big board that said ‘Underdoggs’.

I’m really bad at describing how food tastes like – even though I’m a foodie. So I would not get in detail with that. I’d say, it was a marvelous feast and I was full. Or say, even fuller than just full. Try to picture it when you’ve eaten so much that you can’t even utter a word.

After the mesmerizing moments of relaxation and the arrival of the dessert, I expected my mind to focus just on the big black cake and nothing else.                                                                               

But to my own shock, I was actually overhearing a conversation for the first time in my life. But the voices were just so catchy!

So the voices came from the table parallel to mine, and I glanced over there to see the two men’s faces. One of them on the other end was wearing dark sunglasses which looked expensive. I was like, ‘who wears sunglasses amidst a restaurant with almost no lights?’ That was totally stupid and high-standard stuff. Alien stuff to me. Duh.

The other guy had his back towards me and so I tried to get a sneak-peak but as usual, failed.

I was really interested in knowing what they were talking about.

“You ought to rock the stage this time!” The sunglass-guy almost scolded the other one.

“Yeah, it’s gonna be a hit.” The other one replied with a drunken sigh.

‘Yeah, it’s gonna be a hit.’ That sentence, that voice; it replayed in my mind a thousand times until I gave up trying to recognize the familiar voice. I wished him to speak one more time. Just one.more.time.

“Waiter!” That’s what he said.

Then it struck me. Is he who I’m thinking he is? No, he can’t be. Curiosity engulfed me in its big arms and I was forced to go check them out.

When I reached there, my lower jaw dropped to the floor. Adam Lambert?

“Excuse me, do you know you’re a look-alike of somebody I’m a big fan of.” I said, not hesitating a bit.

“Don’t tell me you’re a fan of Adam Lambert?” he smiled.

I couldn’t collect all sequences.

“A..are you?”

“Yes, I’m Adam. Nice to meet you.” He smiled again.

The rest is obvious – we spent the evening listening to him and I still can’t get my eyes off his autograph and the long, yellow-black backstage passes.

Kriti =)

“Kriti! Don’t you want to give your exam? Wake up! You’d win a competition in sleeping!”

That was when my mom woke me up. Huh. Stupid dream. I really wanted to eat that cake!