The Fermentation of Kaotic’s Brain

I’ve always been the ‘bubbly’ birthday kind of person and by that I don’t mean the ‘let’s-party-into-the-night’ kind as I’d most likely be the first to fall asleep at my own party(I know, boring!). The one time I was inspired to go that way landed me with one helluva telephone bill, as I believed I had to make calls to people all over the globe, chatting at length with their answering machines.

In my case, I like to think of the bubbly as more of an internal glow. I’m that excited child who smiles all day, enjoying the emails, phone calls and text messages that keep flowing in through the day. Yeah, I actually answer the phone on this day as I cling onto it for dear life lest I lose it in my bag or desk draw, the way I would on an average day.

This year was different. The mood was quiet. I missed several calls and was pre-occupied with all things work related, which would explain why I spent most of the day wearing what I told myself was a quiet cloak of dignity. “Ha!” I thought, “I’m finally turning into a poised, dignified woman.”

And then it happened.

Diva Dee-vile: Eh, since I didn’t really have the time to buy you something, here’s the first installment of this year’s gift.

K.O.: Oh, you shouldn’t have, Diva.

Diva Dee-vile: I’m not sure how appropriate it is but…

K.O.: Ooh, what do you mean? *eyes light up with interest*

Diva Dee-vile: Hold your horses, woman. Well, what with your new obsession with Paris et al, I figured something from France would be appropriate.

K.O.: Ooooooohh….. *the act of poise begins to slip*

Diva Dee-vile: Well, it’s grapes from France, *dramatic pause* you know the fermented kind….

K.O.: OMG, do I put it in the fridge? *waits with animated expectation for the response*

Diva Dee-vile: *sighs drily*

K.O.: So?

Diva Dee-vile: *brings out the bottle of wine*

K.O.: *giggle fit* Ah yes, fermented grapes!

Diva Dee-vile: I don’t believe you thought I was going to gift you rotten grapes?

K.O.: When you put it like that….

Diva Dee-vile: Next time, I’ll just buy you a basket of fruits. Of the rotten variety, of course!

K.O.: Hey, I figured if France could give me exotic stinky cheese they could give me an exotic variety of rotten grapes too.  So there!

Yeah, I obviously accept gifts of wine and rotting fruit with equal amounts of excitement. Sigh,

I may as well forget that poised, dignified (slightly delusional?) image of myself and accept the fact that with time it’s just my brain that’s fermenting in more ways than one!