I’m almost out of fresh material
But I did have one - uhm – adventure on Sunday.

We met CC and The French Connection for dinner to celebrate CC’s birthday. He’s turning 600 – that’s a milestone event marked by Indian dinners.

For some reason I ended up ordering for everyone: some chicken, some eggplant, a little malai kofta and some mutter paneer. Mmm…. Paneer.

Dinner was great – we chatted and caught up. Then CC reached for some more curry – I think it was the mutter pannier – when tragedy struck. The bowl sort of slipped out his hands. It hit the table, bounced and splattered me wholly and completely with curry.

It was everywhere: sweater was covered, splattered my face and neck and I think I might have had some in my hair.

There was a short – very, very short – moment of horror. And then I started to laugh. And laugh. Sometime during the laughing the swarm of Indian waiter-ninjas appeared with dozens of white napkins. Meanwhile Deeps sat there totally stunned while The French Connection launched into an angry French diatribe about her clumsy husband. The poor man looked mortified. I laughed harder.

I realized I need to go wipe down and wash up – at least as much as possible. I saw myself in the mirror – curry smudged on my cheek and neck. My lavender sweater was mostly orange – and I laughed some more. Because crap like this only happens to me. And if I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a million times – when you go out with CC and The French Connection hilarity will ensue.

I found some curry on my coat and scarf by the time we got home – so those will probably make it out after a trip the drycleaner. Sadly, purple sweater didn’t make it. But sometimes there’s a price to be paid for comedy.

Fashion is easy; comedy is hard.