Monday April. 30, 2012:

Diary Dearest,

      We jump with sheer excitement at being invited to someones house for what ever occasion. The women dance around with joy at getting a chance to dress up and show off. Though most of us don’t really need a reason, but that's a whole different book. The men brace themselves, after all accept it or not, you know you're going to end up being her dress up buddy/adviser and she yours, even if its an all ladies function. While the maid(s) on one end breathe a sigh of relief, on the other end  an outbreak makes hyperventilation seem like some kind of mutated contagious virus, being passed on from host to cook to helpers and back again.

    But lets face it, its human nature to jump and squeal with the pure delight at getting to eat possibly great food with absolutely no effort.

    And that statement right there has more flaws than this entire passage has grammatical errors.

    Firstly we must accept the fact that no matter how moneyed one is, the thought of a free meal and hospitality is always the most liberating of thoughts.

    But don’t get too excited, as the simple "Dinner Party" can very well be considered a war zone. Ladies, you know exactly what I'm talking about. Different ages have different uses for this multifunctional tool. For the "upper-middle aged", it’s the warm pleasure to "catch up", not to mention its their duty to society to  scrutinise the host, every hidden nook and cranny of the venue and the food.

    While some  of our so-very-mature upper crust are busy mentally dissecting away at living and non-living a like, others are prowling for the perfect daughter-in-law for their diamond of a son.  And this is where the dinner party morphs into both a cat walk/plat form to flaunt and a battle field to establish hierarchy between all the fresh adolescent.  But what ever is it, its sure to be full of all kind of  gossip, drama, silent showdowns, and honey laced insults.

    Moving on….being invited can be thrilling..i mean come on, nothing beats the mysteries of what all we'll have on our plates, literally and metaphorically speaking. And ambiguity is for all to enjoy, but of coarse for very different reasons, if you know what I mean.

 "Will the food be home cooked or by caterers?", "what will there be?" are some of the enquiries the kiddies use as sticks to poke your brains out. Then there is the ultimate "How is their food?". And that is when the host turns into a debutant chef of the hottest new joint, and guess what..ITS THE OPENING NIGHT!  Now this simple question offends even the invitees. Not to mention it leaves them befuddled and in serious doubt themselves of what to expect.

    So after the first round of appetising mingling comes the main course. I hope all my fellow eligible daughter-in-laws-to-be have already eaten or have something to munch on once you get to the sanctuary of your homes. Why you ask..? Don’t worry its not because the food is awful, not that that isn’t a possibility but because if you think you're going to get to stuff your face then you are seriously out of place. Eating the actual dinner is a balancing act for us young women. And do you have any clue how hard it is to eat like royalty and yet not come across as at all snobbish?! Although there isn’t any official protocol of table manners, your expected to show your own mix of memony elegance. Its an art!

    Basically if one wants to learn self-control and/or plans on losing weight, then all you need to do is dress up in all your blingy, shiny glory and get to the closest memon function.

                                                      And that's that,

                                                         Memon Me.