i held my tongue as she told me, 'fear is the heart of love'

I'm still in the office at 11:20pm, due to a perfect storm of trainings, meetings, emergencies, and other issues. I went from having a schedule so clear that I could actually take an hour for lunch to having a schedule so packed that I can't even start my work until after everyone goes home and the meetings stop. So, I've been in the office for fourteen hours; that's not the longest that I've worked in a day, but it's pretty close, and it's almost certainly the longest consecutive stretch I've spent in the office. Oh well; other than the amount of work I have, I'm in a surprisingly chipper mood.

I won't post this until I get home, since I'm working at someone else's desk. I've been putting together powerpoints, for which I do not require the internet, but the downside is that when I want to take a break, I can't read the news or IM someone as is my wont. So I'm 'blogging' by writing the post now, and then I'll post it when I'm home. I'm so clever!

Today, I have nothing fun about India to report, since I spent the entire day in the office. I ate a weird salad from Subway for dinner about half an hour ago because I was so hungry that I couldn't refuse it; my stomach now feels a little queasy, so I hope that it doesn't backfire. However, I didn't have much choice since we are now boycotting Pizza Hut due to the safety glass incident. Ranjit should have saved me Mexican food, but since it would have been ready almost five hours ago and he usually 'saves' food by leaving it on the table covered in a loose sheath of foil, there's a good chance that the Mexican food will be just as dangerous as the Subway salad. It is great that I live in a place where every meal is an adventure.

I downloaded the new Death Cab for Cutie album today; I think that Death Cab is the devil, and my official opinion is that I can't stand them, but then again I bought their entire album, and so perhaps my official stance should not be believed. There is one heartbreakingly-beautiful song that I've already listened to 31 times. It's called 'I Will Follow You Into the Dark', and I highly recommend it if you like slow, emotional songs about love and death. And, I mean, who doesn't?

I had a fun break from work this evening when Salim showed up at the office; he had come to collect Heather for dinner, but since his watch was on Sri Lankan time, he was half an hour early, and since I sit right beside Heather, he spent the next half an hour bothering me. It wasn't the most relaxing break from work ever, since we started shooting staples at each other, but it was certainly entertaining. Then I had a conference call, and then I had to work on presentations, and now I'm blogging, and when I go home I have to do some other stuff that is of no consequence to you but is of loads of consequence to me. It mostly involves calendaring future meetings and trainings, which will result in more work and less time, and will continue what has become a vicious cycle of calendaring, preparing, training, and repeating.

I am going to be very sad to leave India; I've made great friends in the office, I've accomplished a lot here, India itself is fascinating, and I feel that I am starting to learn about myself since I've had a prolonged absence from 'real life'. At the same time, I will be glad to be back in the States, where I will be close to my friends and loved ones, will have a little more privacy than in the 'Real World: Expats' house that I currently live in, and where I can perhaps (perhaps!) work a little bit less than here, at least at first. But we shall see. Now it's time to go home!

a postcard to katie

I originally thought that I couldn't write to Katie on my blog because everyone else reads it. However, due to the deluge in New Orleans, she is now sans phone and sans email account while she sits in Austin and waits out the interminable amount of time until she can go back to Louisiana. So I may periodically put up postcards to her on the blog--which is just like sending it via the mail in that strangers can read them, which means that I have to be somewhat guarded, but it's better than not writing at all. And don't even think about complaining that you don't get postcards like this--when a category five hurricane hits where you live, you can complain, but keep quiet until then.

Dear Katie,

'ello, luv! India continues to entertain, although I'm taking a break from work at eleven p.m. to write to you. I miss you tremendously, and I wish that you were here--at least then you wouldn't be flooded out, although perhaps the risk of cholera/consumption/malaria would scare you off. I had hoped to come to New Orleans and visit you again this year, but if there is nowhere to stay and nothing to do other than swim in chemical-soaked sewage, I may refrain from the journey. I've been worried about you, and I'm glad to know that you're alive and that you didn't stay in the city--it sounds like a nightmare that is going to get worse before it gets better. Have you heard anything more about when Tulane will reopen? From the news I've read, it sounds unlikely that they'll let you come back in a week, but I hope that they are making progress towards getting things cleared up by then.

If you get several months off from law school because of this, hopefully I'll have the chance to see you--we could do that barbecue roadtrip across the American south like we always dreamed of, or we could just sit in my apartment in Menlo Park and watch VH1 whilst drinking wine coolers and reliving the glory days of high school. We can also talk in strange, effeminate British accents and pretend to be gay (since we always thought that the townspeople suspected us of that, which is all that stopped us from putting up a pink marble naked lady tombstone over our plot in the cemetary--such a tragedy). And, we can go find some geese and chase them around a lake; then we can go rowing and put contaminated mud all over our faces while wading amongst the lilypads. India has its share of contaminated mud, and the men here are very affectionate with each other even though they are also extremely homophobic, and some people have weird variations of British accents--but they're not you and never will be, my Amazonian princess.

I can't wait to hear all about your frenzied flight to safety--I imagine that tossing several hundred thousands New Orleans refugees into the already-crazy Texan scene would lead to some quite interesting situations, and you must have met some ridiculous people. It's strange to believe that while I was staring mindlessly at the tsunami-producing Indian Ocean, you were fleeing from the normally-tranquil Gulf of Mexico. I do not envy you your experience, and I am here for you as you put your life back together, but I hope that it wasn't all bad and that you were able to take some ironic pleasure in some of the things that happened. If nothing else, I hope that dreams of a certain country barrister succored you in your hour of need.

Now, I cannot end this postcard with the customary lewd and gratuitous references since my family and coworkers leave this, so I will leave that up to your very fertile imagination. Okay, I'll give you three words: 'white lip balm'. That should be enough to get you started. Send me a phone number where you can be reached in Austin if you have one, and until then I remain,

Ever faithfully yours,
MacPherson

ROUND FOUR: finals!!

The semifinals were completely lackluster; the Arno proved to be absolutely no competition for the might of Walter, while Mussolini easily overcame St. Mark's Basilica. I hope that the match-up of Walter vs. Mussolini will be more exciting. Voting will last for two days, and closes Thursday at 9:30pm Hyderabad time (Thursday at 9:00am California time, 11:00am Iowa, 12:00pm Eastern). Vote early to ensure that your vote counts!

As usual, my description of my day is below this round of pictures (or will be in a minute, after I have written it).

GROUP ONE/TWO/THREE/FOUR vs. GROUP FIVE/SIX/SEVEN/EIGHT

walter and dim sum--but no shrimp or feet game (london)



the requisite world war ii reference: italian monument known as 'mussolini's typewriter' because the black-clad fascists used to march up and down the steps (rome)


In an epic final round, we pit good against evil, man against machine, dim sum against fascists. Essentially, these two pictures combine two of my strongest passions--dim sum and fascism. Who will win this epic confrontation?

we'll be the worst of best friends

I am so excited--Gavin Rossdale, the lead singer of Bush, is part of a new band called Institute. I downloaded the first single, 'Bulletproof Skin', off iTunes today, and I absolutely love it. As with most great Bush songs, the words make absolutely no sense even though they sound profound, and Gavin Rossdale does a fantastic job of sounding angry and angst-ridden even though he is married to a gorgeous woman and appears to have a pretty decent life. I love him, I love his style, and I love the song, so I can't wait until the album comes out. However, it may not be such a great thing--the last album that he released ('Golden State') was supposed to come out a week after 9/11/01, and the original cover art featured a plane falling from the sky, while one of the singles said 'at my best when I'm terrorist inside'. That required some quick reworking; this cd is once again coming out just after my birthday, so hopefully the world won't throw me another reason why my birthday can never be celebrated with anything more than sombre remembrance. The title to this post is from the new single, and sums up my feelings right now in a multitude of ways. One of those ways is that I haven't talked to Katie for quite awhile, and I tried calling her last night but couldn't reach her because the Louisiana cellphone system wasn't accepting calls. Her father told my parents that she made it to Texas, but I am anxious to hear more details about her exodus from New Orleans, whether or when she will go back to school, etc.

Anyway, today was pretty fun. I'm suddenly extremely busy again, so the rest of this week will be miserable. However, we had a funny meeting at the end of the day that brightened my mood considerably. Several weeks ago, Salim ordered a pizza from Pizza Hut, bit into the first slice, and loosened a filling when he chomped down on a piece of safety glass that was embedded in the crust. This story spread and Ismail found out--and he flipped out and called one of the Indian directors of Pizza Hut, for whom he used to be a driver. So the dude apparently flew down from Mumbai or something to check out the franchise and meet with us. Salim came into the office (since it's his fiancee who works here, not him), and several of us met with the Pizza Hut guys around 6:30pm. Salim described what happened, and the guy said that it was impossible because they don't use glass in the production of their pizzas. Salim said that he would never order Pizza Hut again, and the guy kept asking what he could do to change his mind. I don't think he realized that he should have been placating the rest of us; Salim is just a visitor and maybe orders a pizza a week, whereas the rest of us are in the office all the time and order loads of pizza all the time. He ultimately told Salim that he was 'very sad' that Salim would never eat pizza again, or even see pizza being made, without thinking of this experience. The meeting ended with absolutely no resolution, although I felt very young and unprofessional because I had to bite my lip during the entire meeting to keep from laughing out loud. I love India!

Then, we had a surprise going-away party for Shadie; it was quite fun, although I was subjected to quite a bit of teasing about my height (as normal) and the fact that I couldn't figure out how the remote worked in Sri Lanka (not as normal, since I usually figure out technology with ease). Shadie's cake was great, it said 'We missed you, Shadie', as though it was a homecoming rather than a going-away party. It was nice to hang out relatively early after work, and now I think I'll go to bed so that I can make it through tomorrow. Yay for extreme amounts of work. I was almost beginning to feel like I had a life again, but happily for me I've been yanked back into the corporate fold. Goodnight, everyone!

i'm taking the cure so i can be quiet whenever i want

I'm ridiculously tired, and so I intend to go to bed as soon as I post this, even though it's not quite ten p.m. As I intimated earlier, I had an amazing time in Sri Lanka. Six of us left Hyderabad early Friday morning, and we stopped at a temple on the way to the airport. The temple was beautiful--white marble, with beautiful carvings. It was pretty early, so it wasn't crowded even though it was Krishna's birthday and so would probably become more crowded later. I'm glad that we went...and also glad that that was the only 'cultural' thing we did on the entire trip. We left the temple, went to the airport, boarded the short flight to Sri Lanka, and arrived with no difficulties sometime around noon on Friday. The drive from the airport (north of the capital) to the resort town of Bentota (south of the capital) was almost three hours, most of which I slept through due to a dose of Dramamine. But, my impression was that Sri Lanka's roads are better than India's and people are more likely to follow traffic signals, which was very welcome.

Anyway, there isn't much to report about the trip. I spent two nights at the Taj Exotica resort in Bentota; I had a room overlooking the Indian Ocean, with a balcony on which we could drink and watch the sunset over the water. I spent all day Saturday hanging out by the pool and drinking at the swim-up bar, and then had a great dinner with Regina and Rohit at their hotel (which was five minutes away from the Taj). After dinner, Matt, Salim and I cleared out half of the minibar in one of the rooms, which was quite entertaining. I also hung out at the pool Sunday morning before having lunch and catching a car back to the airport. I spent Sunday night in Chennai/Madras, and then caught a v. early flight to Hyderabad this morning.

Highlights of the trip:

1) The taxi driver in Chennai. He had a car that may well have been built in the 1950s, and a small Hindu idol lit up with Christmas lights on the dashboard. He prayed to the idol before driving out of the parking lot, and I soon understood why--the car died every time he pulled to a stop. This is not a comfortable thing in chaotic Indian traffic, but luckily we made it to the hotel alive.

2) The Indian Ocean. It was gorgeous, and yet slightly sinister, since there was still damage from the tsunami all around us. It was less than 200 yards from the hotel, and as I was sitting in the balcony it was hard not to imagine what it must have been like to see all the water coming up to kill you.

3) The pool bar at the Taj Exotica. I actually only had a couple of drinks from it, but it's simultaneously the best and the worst idea ever. I don't think you're supposed to mix alcohol and swimming, and the combination of alcohol and sun definitely helped to ensure that I was dehydrated the next day, but it was very fun to sip a pina colada while hanging out in the pool.

4) Dinner with Regina and Rohit. It felt extremely grown-up, since we met at their hotel and had a candlelit dinner on the lawn of their fancy mansion-turned-B&B. We drank wine, ate great food, and I felt older than my 23 years. But I'm turning 24 in two weeks, so maybe this very pleasurable dinner will make me feel better about my impending old age.

5) Richard. Richard is this dude who arranges cars, tours, etc. He has a protege, also named Richard, who is smaller in height, girth, and responsibility. Salim and I met with him to organize some cars and things, and Salim promptly coined them 'Big Richard' and 'Little Richard'. Little Richard just nods in agreement, while Big Richard talks very slowly about whatever he wants to talk about. He did a great job organizing cars, and he also organized an elephant ride for Salim, but then he launched into a tangent about the ring that he was wearing, and how it had nine stones (a different gemstone for each planet), and how when the sun hits the ring, it send power to the heart or something. I decided that this was too reminsicent of Captain Planet for my liking, but the Richards were very helpful despite this fact.

6) Relaxing in general. I've now recovered from my European adventures, even though I'm tired from the flight this morning. I need to plan the rest of my time here rather desperately, since it's quickly running out.

And now, you can vote in the semifinals of my European vacation! I'll post Sri Lanka pictures later. Goodnight, everyone!

ROUND THREE: semifinals!!

A flurry of votes led to the face-offs listed below. I would go into more detail, but I want to write about Sri Lanka and then go to bed. Voting for the semifinals is open until Tuesday at 9am California time (11am Iowa time, 12pm Eastern time, 9:30pm Hyderabad time).

Apologies about the fact that you now have to play that 'enter the word' game when you post a comment, but it's an attempt to stop the ridiculous comment spam that always made me feel like I was popular until I opened the comment and found out that it was a lame automatic advertisement for something. If this is too onerous for you--well, you must not care about me anyway.

GROUP ONE/TWO vs. GROUP THREE/FOUR

the river arno at sunset (florence)



walter and dim sum--but no shrimp or feet game (london)


The river Arno continues to do well in all rounds of voting. Now it comes up against its greatest test: Walter. Will the artistic beauty of the river withstand the Talbotross's parental voting block? Or will the Talbottoman Empire finally crumble?

GROUP FIVE/SIX vs. GROUP SEVEN/EIGHT

the requisite world war ii reference: italian monument known as 'mussolini's typewriter' because the black-clad fascists used to march up and down the steps (rome)



st. mark's basilica (venice)


In some hot Roman-on-Roman action, the smoking centurion lost out to Mussolini's typewriter, while a completely lackluster fourth bracket produced the rather uninspiring picture of St. Marks. I fully expect a Fascist bloodbath, since that's what one gets when one messes with Mussolini.

back from sri lanka; voting extended!

I just got into the office after a *fantastic* weekend; despite the fact that we had to spend the night in Chennai because we couldn't find a direct flight, and then wake up at six this morning to fly to Hyderabad, and then come directly to the office, I am ridiculously relaxed. 'Well-rested' is not an accurate descriptor, but 'excited about life' definitely is.

In other news, I have too much to do at work today to tally the votes, so I'm extending voting until 8:30pm Hyderabad time (8am pacific, 10am central, 11am eastern, etc.) This will enable 'Derek Zoolander' to vote, since I love Zoolander and can't wait to see with what his incredible mental prowess will come up with.

I'll blog more tonight!

ROUND TWO: quarterfinals!

After some furious voting (mostly on the part of my family members and Walter's parents), the results are listed below. A couple of surprises:

1) Y'all failed to recognize the inherent greatness of the Spear of Destiny. Noah Wyle and I are ashamed of you.

2) Claudia got trounced, first by the Coliseum, and then by a latte. Depressing. I thought that she would face no opposition in a group with a latte and a rather innocuous picture of the Knights Templar temple, but I was wrong.

3) I had to choose between Walter and Mussolini in Group Five; the results of that terrible choice are below.

4) The only clear loser was the French; of the nine pictures in the game from France, only one advanced to the quarterfinals. The sole survivor was a stained glass window in the Notre Dame, whose Frenchness is not immediately obvious, and so this may have been the only reason why it moved on. The French might as well say 'J'surrender' and throw in the towel, since I doubt that the stained glass window will win it all given the stiff competition.

Since I'm going to Sri Lanka, voting will not close until Sunday at noon Pacific time. That gives you three days to make some important decisions about the quarterfinals!!

(and if you care about my day, as usual, my 'real' post is below today's set of pictures--have a great weekend!)

GROUP ONE vs GROUP TWO

the river arno at sunset (florence)



the ruins of the coliseum (rome)


The river arno at sunset destroyed the competition in Group One, while the ruins of the coliseum pulled out a victory over the bedbugs in Bordeaux. Sing a dirge for Claude, who was beaten by 2000-year-old ruins.

GROUP THREE vs. GROUP FOUR

walter and dim sum--but no shrimp or feet game (london)



my absurdly expensive latte in st. marks square (venice)


Walter pulled off an easy victory with the dim sum menu, despite the lack of the Shrimp or Feet? game. Claudia was beaten by the expensive latte, even though I thought she was a shoe-in for a win here with her awesome expression. Joanna's vote did not count because it came after the noon PDT deadline, although I appreciate the effort and encourage her to vote again in the next round.

GROUP FIVE vs. GROUP SIX

the requisite world war ii reference: italian monument known as 'mussolini's typewriter' because the black-clad fascists used to march up and down the steps (rome)



some dude dressed up as a roman soldier to take pictures with tourists, smoking and using his cellphone (rome)


In an unfortunate twist of fate, I was forced to break a tie between Mussolini's typewriter and Walter/Abe Lincoln. Both of Walter parents, as well as my mother and brother, voted for Walter, while my father, my sister, Shedletsky, and Jasmine voted for Mussolini's typewriter. Choosing between Walter and Mussolini was no easy task. However, a win for Walter would likely result in a Walter-vs-Walter final round, given the strong voting bloc of Walter's parents. And how could I deny the fascists, given my university background? As Lincoln himself said, 'a house divided cannot stand'--and so I had to vote for Mussolini. Walter, forgive me. As for the Roman soldier, there was no contest there.

GROUP SEVEN vs. GROUP EIGHT

st. mark's basilica (venice)



stained glass window in notre dame cathedral (paris)


I am horribly disappointed in all of you. This round clearly should have been the Spear of Destiny vs. the Steak, but you all failed me. There is nothing more to say about this matter.

i know we're cool

I should be in bed, since I have to get up in five hours, but the eve of vacation is always a time to stay up late and do all those things you should have done during the week. This was even more imperative since I just got back from my last vacation four days ago. So, I ate dinner, packed, talked to my parents, played on the internet, cleaned my room (in the 'put away all my clothes' sense, not the 'dusting and making the bed' sense, since I have servants for such menial tasks), and watched 'Rockstar: INXS'. Terrible show, but extremely funny. Some of you may be amused to note that my infamously bad taste is making its presence felt in the office; someone was amazed to discover that I have 'Why Are You So Quiet' by Aquagen on my iTunes. I suggested that they listen to 'Party Alarm' for an even better experience, but as far as I know they haven't taken me up on that offer.

Sri Lanka will be great fun, I hope. We're stopping at a Hindu temple on the way to the airport tomorrow morning, which is why we're leaving at seven rather than eight. It should be good, since tomorrow is Krishna's birthday, which is why we are getting Friday off in the first place. Hopefully that will be the only cultural thing that I do on this vacation; I intend to spend the rest of time getting a horrible sunburn whilst eating beef and bathing in the gorgeous Indian Ocean. I will probably not eat beef and swim at the same time, since that seems like a good way to encourage a shark attack. As much as I have dreamed of getting the Black Death, death by shark has never been high on my list of priorities.

Okay, it's time to tally the votes for the first round of the picture game, and then it's time for bed! Have a great weekend, everyone.

THE GAME: rate my european vacation

I took 277 pictures while in Europe; I have posted the 24 that I either liked the best or thought were illustrative of the trip. This is an interactive game, since I can't decide what the best part of the trip was. To decide, I want all of you to vote in a bracket-style competition until we have one sole survivor.

The game will last four rounds. Below, you'll find eight groups, each with three pictures. Pictures were placed in groups in random order. For each group, leave a comment with which picture/experience you think is the best (judge them on any criteria you wish--picture quality, absurdity, anti-French sentiment, etc.). You have until Thursday at noon Pacific daylight time to vote. At that time, the picture with the most votes in each group will move on to the next round. Vote early and vote often, but in the case of ties, I will only use signed (i.e. posts with some feature that identifies the poster) comments. If that doesn't break the tie, I'll cast my own vote. Clear? Let's play!

(and if you wanted to know how my day was, that post is below these pictures. the short story is that i leave for sri lanka friday morning!)

GROUP ONE

the arc de triomphe (paris)



the church where eleanor of aquitaine married some dude (bordeaux)


the river arno at sunset (florence)

GROUP TWO

the statue of charlemagne outside the notre dame (paris)


the hostel where i may have gotten bedbugs (bordeaux)


the ruins of the coliseum (rome)

GROUP THREE

walter and dim sum--but no shrimp or feet game (london)


the eiffel tower (paris)


the duomo cathedral (florence)

GROUP FOUR

claudia with two statues that i like to call 'gin and juice' in the tower of london (london)



my absurdly expensive latte in st. marks square (venice)



the knights templar temple (london)

GROUP FIVE

walter and abraham lincoln (london)



nice! (nice)


the requisite world war ii reference: italian monument known as 'mussolini's typewriter' because the black-clad fascists used to march up and down the steps (rome)

GROUP SIX

notre dame cathedral (paris)



some dude dressed up as a roman soldier to take pictures with tourists, smoking and using his cellphone (rome)



the pantheon, an ancient temple-turned-church where raphael is buried (rome)

GROUP SEVEN

statue of a roman soldier with the spear of destiny--the spear has been featured in such hits as 'constantine' and 'the librarian: quest for the spear' (vatican city)



st. mark's basilica (venice)



the glorious sephora flagship store (paris)

GROUP EIGHT

stained glass window in notre dame cathedral (paris)



the victoria statue outside buckingham palace (london)



half a kilo of bloody, delicious steak (florence)

after all the obstacles

So it turns out we're going to Sri Lanka after all. This necessitated ditching Arod (which wasn't quite ditching because she encouraged us to go and made all the flight arrangements, but I have a guilty conscience). Amusingly, my manager (who has requested for me to call her 'dear respected madam' in true Indian fashion) and her fiance may be joining us as well; the flight issue isn't as bad for them as she's willing to take Monday off, while I did not want to take time off since I just took ten days of vacation. We're also taking the same flight as Regina and Rohit, who are going to Sri Lanka for a week, so there will be six of us in the same beach town an hour south of the capital. I've booked a fancy-looking room at a beach resort (called the Taj Exotica, part of the Taj group that runs the hotel where we have brunch on Sundays), and we intend to spend the entire weekend drinking and lounging on the beach (and perhaps picking up super-cheap clothing bargains from the sweatshops--which sounds horrible, but buying from the Gap outlet in Sri Lanka just means that some other poor soul didn't have to load the clothing onto a ship or something). We're leaving Friday morning on a direct flight to Colombo (the city, not the grumpy but brilliant trenchcoat-wearing detective), and leave Sri Lanka Sunday night on a flight for Chennai/Madras. We have to spend the night there, get on a plane early Monday morning, and come back to Hyderabad just in time to work. Yay. The beach will be quite lovely, I'm sure, so it should be a rollicking good time.

Thank goodness that all of that was settled, since I was thoroughly sick of trying to make travel arrangements (and I'm sure Arod was even more sick of it, since she was the one dealing with the travel agent and she didn't even get to go in the end). But that means that I leave India on Friday morning, after only four and a half days in the country. Ridiculous!

Now it's time for bed, but first I'm going to try to post some pictures of my European adventures. Let's see if it works out as I intended...

no man could test me, impress me, my cash flow would never ever end

Today was rather fruitless; amongst the work and the jetlag, we were trying to finalize our upcoming three-day-weekend trip, but we failed miserably. We were unable to get tickets to Dubai, and so spent the rest of the day trying to find tickets to Sri Lanka. This basically just involves making repeated phone calls to travel agents, since India is not so supportive of instant online booking. By this evening, we had the possibility of three tickets to Sri Lanka, but Arod said that she couldn't miss a few hours of work Monday morning (since we couldn't come back Sunday night as desired). So now the options are either a) ditching Arod (which is both unwelcome and unfortunate, since she was the one calling the travel agents), b) doing it all over again tomorrow, this time in an attempt to go to Chennai (aka Madras) or somewhere else in India, or c) going nowhere and drinking Old Monk by the pool all weekend instead. At this point, option c is almost appealing, since I'm still tired from my Europe trip and could use some time to relax. But as it would be more fun to relax on the beach than it would be to relax in our apartment complex, I sincerely hope that we resolve all of this tomorrow.

I had a conference call tonight at 9:30, and so after that I wanted another break, which means that I hung out downstairs for an hour rather than going to bed early like I had intended. Then I sat around looking for places to go before tossing in the towel in disgust. Now, I really need to go to bed, since I have tons to do tomorrow.

All that being said, India continues to entertain; my air conditioner wasn't working when I left, and so as though to make up for the previous inconvenience, they keep resetting my air conditioner thermostat to 17 degrees Celsius. That's 62.6 degrees Fahrenheit, and ridiculously cold. Luckily my room has warmed up now, so I can actually sleep without getting hypothermia. Also, one of the walls by the staircase has developed a nasty case of mold, and the rats are back downstairs (Saamra and Arod reported sighting one while making mac and cheese the other night). On that pleasant note, it's off to bed!

you're so unbelievable

Going back to work is amazingly difficult after a two-week vacation. I didn't get much done, since I had upwards of six hundred emails waiting for me to look at; most of them were completely unnecessary, but there were many that I couldn't skip without at least skimming. But, it's good to be back in India--the whole city smelled like sewage or something today, the chicken at dinner was dry and tough, and things were generally normal. I enjoyed every minute of it, and discovered that I was in a genuinely good mood the entire day, which isn't usually the case when one has just had a fabulous vacation and has to return to work. Hopefully this high lasts at least three more days, and then it's time for a long weekend--three of us were going to go to Dubai, but we can't get tickets, so unless something fortuitous happens, we may go to Sri Lanka instead. We shall see, but it's great fun to think about getting back on a plane Thursday night when I just got back thirty hours ago.

I know that this post is disobligingly short, but I am rather tired, and so I suppose I should go to bed. I need to plan out the rest of my time here, since it will involve a significant amount of travel; I need to see the Taj Mahal and Fatehpur Sikri, and if possible I would also like to go to Ajanta, Rajasthan, and Goa, as well as see the remaining things in Hyderabad that I haven't made it to yet. I'd also like to see Vishal in his natural habitat (Bombay), since I think that would be hysterical. But I only have eight weekends between now and when I have to leave the country, which leave v. little time, especially since I have shopping and packing to do, as well as the insane amounts of work that brought me here in the first place. If I'm going to do all that travelling, I should really get some sleep and let my blisters heal before I run wildly about the Indian subcontinent. Goodnight!

vacation epilogue: the third world

So I did make it to Westminster Abbey yesterday, and was v. glad that I went. Afterwards, I had a quarter-pounder with cheese at McDonalds, and it was *awesome* (my time in Europe apparently turned me into Can Sar, although I can never hope to have his long, lithe legs), and a mocha at Starbucks. Then I talked to my parents in the park in Russell Square, picked up my bags from the hotel, and made my way to Heathrow.

It seemed, to my overtired brain, that as soon as I had checked in for my flight, the world wanted to remind me of the inepitude and bureaucracy that I faced by returning to India. The first reminder was when I ordered a bagel after checking in; I specifically asked for a plain bagel with cream cheese and salmon, but the dude decided to 'upgrade' me to The Classic, which was everything that I wanted plus dillweed, which I most certainly did not want. I laboriously scraped every bit of dill off the bagel, only to discover that the bagel itself was not good, and so threw the whole mess away. Sadness. Then, I went to my boarding gate, where I had another fun, completely inexplicable experience. I had already been through security (stringent, as might be expected since the British are a little jumpy right now) and done the whole metal-detector-and-xray-machine routine, and after that had only had the opportunity to walk through the duty-free area and buy my ill-fated bagel. But, at the gate for the flight to Mumbai/Bombay, Jet Airlines had set up their own additional second security check, replete with handheld wands and people to hand-inspect our luggage. The funny thing about this was that they didn't quite know what they were doing; the dude in front of me opened up his case to reveal that it contained a machine of some sort with dials on it, lots of wires, and a lot of packing material and 'fragile' stickers all over the place. The woman looked at it, looked at him, asked him what he did with that, he replied 'I fix engines', and she just closed it and asked him to move on. Then she said to me that she had no idea what that was, but if he'd made it through the first security check it must be okay. I could only smirk at my possible impending doom, since clearly security wasn't going to save me.

But, I made it to Mumbai safely, drowning out the sound of screaming babies by listening to Coldplay's new album on constant repeat for nine hours. I don't really like Coldplay, and I slept through it, but it's probably now deeply ingrained in my subconscious. You may wonder why I listened to it, but it was the only laidback album on Jet Airways' radio selection that wasn't easy listening or country, so I didn't have much choice. Happily, I did not have a nervous breakdown upon having to sit in the Mumbai airport for four hours; instead, I read an entire Georgette Heyer romance novel. Ismail called twice to check up on me, and I was not in the least bit annoyed to have someone planning all of my movements for me--he also reminded me not to eat anything in the airport, as though I needed a verbal reminder above my own fear of dysentery. I got back to Hyderabad on time, was picked up by Ansari (one of my favorite drivers), returned to my apartment, talked to Arod, took a shower, had mac and cheese for dinner, and watched three or four pirated episodes of 'Friends' before coming upstairs for the night.

I can't believe that I have to go to work tomorrow; talk about a letdown. But, I forgot that this is only a four-day week, since Friday is a holiday. If we can swing it, Arod, Matt and I are going to Dubai, but if the ticketing situation doesn't work out, we'll go someplace else instead.

I can't post pictures tonight because I'm too tired, but I did take 277 of them, so I'll put a few up in the coming days. Meanwhile, you'll have to satisfy yourself with this list of the things that Claudia and I saw, although I must admit that my memory is quickly failing me, so I'll probably miss some stuff:

Saturday, August 6 - London
-hamburgers!

Sunday, August 7 - London
-dim sum
-St James Park
-Buckingham Palace (the outside)
-Westminster Abbey (the outside)
-Tower Bridge
-the ridiculously-slow ferris wheel
-the Tower of London
-Leicester Square (premiere of 'The Island' = lots of fun pumping techno music as the backdrop for dinner)

Monday, August 8 - London
-Walter walking away
-the Temple (formerly the temple of the Knights Templar)
-St. Pauls Cathedral
-Millennium Bridge
-Tate Modern

Tuesday, August 9 - London to Rome
-Luton airport
-Colisseum
-some ruins around the colisseum
-some random churches interspersed between the train station and the colisseum

Wednesday, August 10 - Rome/Vatican
-Vatican Museums
-Sistine Chapel
-St Peters Basilica (including where they present the Sword of Destiny on certain days)
-a bunch of monuments, ruins, etc
-the Spanish Steps
-Trevi Fountain
-the Pantheon
-the Forum
-some obelisks
-some other fountains
-Lord Byron's place in Rome
-some other stuff

Thursday, August 11 - Rome to Venice to Florence

-St Marks Basilica
-the Doge's Palace
-the Bridge of Sighs
-a bunch of pigeons
-an eight-euro latte
-a couple of other cool churches
-the Grand Canal
-Rome, Venice, and Florence train stations

Friday, August 12 - Florence

-the Duomo (a cool cathedral)
-Sephora!! (a cool makeup store)
-Ponte Vecchio
-the five-hour line for the Uffizi Gallery (we didn't see the gallery, just the line)
-steak dinner!!
-across the Arno and up a hill for a great view of Florence

Saturday, August 13 - Florence

-an internet cafe (while Claude took a walking tour)
-Santa Maria Novella Church (while Claude was still on the walking tour)
-Museo Borghese (some famous stuff there, but I've forgotten)
-San Lorenzo church (the Medici family church)
-Capella Medici (more Medici stuff, obviously, and pretty cool)
-the ocean for dinner (pasta covered in lots of sea creatures)
-Palazzo Pitti (just the outside, v. pretty)

Sunday, August 14 - Florence to Genoa to Nice to Bordeaux

-lots of sitting in the train
-two hours of the train station in Genoa
-a funny little tour of Nice
-dinner in Nice
-the beach in Nice
-night train to Bordeaux

Monday, August 15 - Bordeaux

-a funny little tour of Bordeaux
-the dirty dirty hostel
-lots of sitting in the one open cafe--it was Assumption Day in France and most things were closed
-walking around looking at churches
-the cathedral where Eleanor of Aquitaine married one of her two husbands (can't remember if it was the French king Louis, or the English king Henry II)--and the cathedral was haunting because it was in a state of near-complete disrepair

Tuesday, August 16 - Bordeaux, night to Paris

-more walking around
-wine tour of Bordeaux countryside (not nearly as much wine as Sonoma wine tours, but still entertaining)
-tasty steak dinner!
-night train to Paris

Wednesday, August 17 - Paris

-Notre Dame
-Arc de Triomphe
-Champs-Elysees
-Tuileries Gardens
-the Louvre (mona lisa, venus di milo, winged victory, lots of paintings and sculptures and artifacts, etc.)
-Pont Neuf (featured in 'The Bourne Identity' as well as a Nancy Drew book whose title eludes me)
-boat tour on the Seine
-the Eiffel Tower (all the way to the top!)

Thursday, August 18 - Paris, late afternoon to London

-Rodin Museum (most of the good pieces are also at Stanford, so weird)
-Musee d'Orsay (lots of great impressionist stuff)
-Champs Elysees (broke down and got lipgloss at the Sephora flagship store there)
-parted ways with Claudia :(
-channel tunnel to London

Friday, August 19 - London

-lunch with Lea in Leicester Square
-book shopping
-starbucks
-thwarted attempt at the hard rock cafe
-bubble bath!

Saturday, August 20 - London to Mumbai

-Westminster Abbey
-McDonalds
-Starbucks
-Heathrow

Sunday, August 21 - Mumbai to Hyderabad

-dirt
-dysentery
-just kiddding--it's great to be back in India, and I was surprisingly excited to return (once going back to London was no longer an option)

Okay, I shall post pictures from some of my exploits later, but now I should go to bed!

the last day: london, then back to india

I had intended to write a long, exciting post about my mis/adventures over the past two weeks, but when I returned to my hotel room yesterday afternoon, I discovered that the internet on the TV no longer worked. After calling the IT department, I learned that the multimedia had been disconnected in preparation for an upcoming upgrade, and that I shouldn't have been able to access it the night before. By that time, I didn't particularly want to venture out to find an internet cafe, although I did want dinner--so I went to the Hard Rock Cafe, hoping to enjoy some tasty American food. Amusingly enough, the restaurant was closed for a month due to a fire that they had sometime in the recent past, and so I went back to my hotel and ordered room service.

All in all, London has been quite relaxing this time around; I got up late yesterday, took a bubble bath, had lunch with Lea and then met her husband, which was fun, and then rested for a bit. I also went bookshopping and stopped at a Starbucks for a mocha frappuccino, taking full advantage of the opportunity to have overpriced drinks before returning to the land of Old Monk and lassi (which is made with yoghurt and which I do not particularly enjoy). Last night, as I said, I ate in bed and read a book before going to sleep. I checked out of my hotel this morning, and had intended to just sit around for a couple of hours before going to the airport--but I got the time wrong in my head, and while I thought that my plane left at 6:30, it doesn't actually leave until 9:30. That still isn't late enough for me to go to an event that would have been very fun (Lea and her husband invited me to a party with the actors from 'Shaun of the Dead' since the husband was one of the zombies--he got a shard for an old vinyl record embedded in his eye during the woodshed scene, for those of you who saw it), but it is late enough that I shouldn't sit around in a Starbucks for six hours. I guess that means that it is my destiny to go to Westminster Abbey and hope that it isn't closed on this, my third attempt--I got an email from Emily that pointed out that I should go in case it's no longer there when I come back to London, a clear reference to the fact that when I visited her in New York a few years ago, she didn't take me to the world trade center because I could do such touristy things anytime. She may be right--and while the Notre Dame in Paris was so magnificent as to ruin me for other churches, Westminster Abbey does have a significant amount of history to thrill my Anglophile soul. Unfortunately I left my camera in my bags at the hotel, but it feels weird taking pictures in churches anyway.

The last two days in London were exactly what I needed--I'm now longer coughing more than once or twice an hour, my plague/bedbugs are subsiding, and I may actually be able to go to work on Monday without falling asleep at my desk. Now it's off to Westminster--I'll write again when I'm back in Hyderabad. My safe arrival will be contingent on my ability to survive the shock and insanity of spending six hours in the Bombay airport after becoming reaccustomed to Western life. Regardless of what happens, I'm sure that it will be quite amusing, as long as I remember not to drink anything with ice in it and to use copious amounts of disinfectant after touching things.

nearing the end: paris, london

As you can tell from the ease with which you can read my prose (or rather, the ease with which I can type it; whether it is readable is entirely my responsibility, and I make no promises given my current level of exhaustion) that I am no longer in Paris. No, I have returned to London, where the differences between the US and the UK are deadlier than the differences between the US and Paris (i.e. they drive on the wrong side of the road and have a longer history of mad cow disease), but are less annoying (i.e. they speak English, and their keyboards are arrangd just like oure). I parted ways with Claudia in Paris this afternoon; she was bound for Amsterdam and what will hopefully be a short wait for a flight home, while I took a train to London for a day of complete and utter relaxation before flying to Hyderabad on Saturday.

I have bigger blisters on my feet than I thought were possible; and, either the rash that most people got after their bout of fever and coughing (the disease that plagued me the last week that I was in India) afflicted my feet instead of my hands like in other cases, or there were bedbugs in Bordeaux. Either of these are possible; given that Claudia did not suffer any damage, I'd like to believe that it wasn't bedbugs, but it also seems strange that a rash would only impact my feet and legs. Regardless, they itch like crazy, and the combination of inflamed bumps, obscenely large blisters, and sore feet combines to make me not want to leave my hotel ever again. I was going to see Westminster Abbey tomorrow, since I've been to Lodnon twice already without seeing it, but it might not happen. I will at least stir from my hotel to have lunch with Lea, who went to my high school and later married an Englishman; it should be fun, and I am looking forward to the sheer novelty of seeing someone from my rather small graduating class of 64 in a foreign country. My education was surprisingly good, considering that I went to a small, rural public school with no AP classes and a reasonably large percentage of delinquents (particularly this one girl, Katie, who used to sell crack cocaine behind the stage in the old gym). I didn't get a chance to use my rapidly diminishing Spanish on this trip, but I did get to use the only phrase that I remembered from my one year of rather informal French: 'je voudrais un croque-monsieur'. I didn't even really want a croque monsieur, but since they had it on the menu at the place we stopped for lunch in Bordeaux, I felt obliged to order it. It's a ham and cheese sandwich, coated in egg and more cheese and toasted until all melty inside and out. It was extremely rich and I didn't really like it, but I felt happy to have used my French knowledge to its fullest.

My hotel in London is super swanky, especially compared to the place that we stayed at in Bordeaauz--at twelve euros a night per person for a room that we didn't have to share with anyone, I suppose that we shouldn't have expected much. It was rather dirty, four floors up with no elevator, the lampshade was broken, and I couldn't flip my pillow over in the night like I usually do because it had to remain covered by the bedsheet due to the fact that the pillow was covered in unidentifiable stains. Judging by that description, you might believe that I am currently suffering from bedbug bites, but the world shall never know. However, the hostel in Bordeaux was charming in a completely disastrous way (my favorite!); I'll post a picture when I get back to India. I also won't share the name of the hostel here because I don't want people to do google searches for it and find my less-than-charitable revies; I would hate to preven someone else from having the same amazing time that we had. Suffice it to say that the mattress was so old and unsupported that it felt like I was sleeping in a hammock; I haven't been that wrapped up in my bed since the night of my twentieth birthday, when the towers fell and my futon collapsed; too heartsick/intoxicated to fix it, I slept in the deep vee made by the broken frame. The bed in Boredeaux reminded me of that, which was very comforting in a strange way.

There is nothing like those privations in my hotel in London. I splurged on a real hotel after two weeks of backpacking, and I'm very happy that I did; it is so refreshing to have my own bathroom, stocked with bathrobes and premium soaps. I also have internet on my tv (which explains why I'm writing this), and I got a hamburger and fries from room service afer arriving. I'm staying here two nights, which will be the first time that I'm spending two nights in the same accomodations since I was in London nearly two weeks ago. I'm going to sleep late, take a bath, have lunch with Lea, perhaps do some desultory shopping, and then relax the rest of the day. Since I have to go back to work on Monday, after arriving back in India on Sunday afternoon, this is my last chance to relax before everything goes insane again.

Okay, I'm really tired, so it's time for bed. I'll write a more formal wrap-up of my trip at some point in the not-so-distant future.

days ?-?: i dont even know where i am anymore!

okay so thats a lie; im in paris. and this keyboard is v difficult to use, since the french like to make things hard--theyve switched the a and q keys, the z and w keys, and all the punctuation. bastards. since this is taking forever to type, im just going to use the regular american keys, and youre going to have to translate:

clqudie qnd i got into pqris this ,orning; qfter spending tzo lovely dqys in bordequx: ze drqnk so,e zine on q zine tour of bordequw; zhich zqs nice; but not auite qs fun qs the zine tour thqt i did in sono,q zith ritu qnd ,qneesh: florence zqs greqt qs zell; qnd ze spent qn qfternoon in nice; zhich zqs qs nice qs the nq,e should i,ply:

after looking back at what i just wrote, it is apparent that faster isnt better. its also apparent that i should leave and go to the louvre. so, take care, and i'll write more when i can use a keyboard that wasnt put together by a drunk frenchman with a grudge against americans.

day 5-8: everywhere! (aka rome, venice, florence)

It has been a ridiculous few days. We walked all over Rome, to the point that I had to buy tennis shoes in Rome before my feet fell off (my mother very properly asked me why I didn't take tennis shoes with me, to which I replied that I had sports sandals that I thought would be fine, but perhaps in typical fashion my subconscious just wanted the chance to do some shoe shopping on my trip). We saw the Colisseum, as I believe I mentioned before, and then on Wednesday we went to the Vatican, saw the Sistine Chapel and St. Peters Basilica, and did a great free tour of St. Peters that served as a v. effective advertisement for a later paid walking tour of Rome. So we did the walking tour from 6:30 to 9:30, saw the Trevi Fountain, the Spanish Steps, the Pantheon, the Forum, a whole bunch of other stuff, and generally had a very good, very fast tour of Rome. We got on a train at 10:50 for an overnight trip to Venice, where we arrived at like 6am in a considerable amount of pain. We walked around Venice in the rain, saw St. Marks, split ways because my feet hurt, and so Claudia saw some other stuff while I drank a v. expensive latte in St. Marks Square and talked to my parents. My v. expensive latte got rained into, and so I moved under the covered walkway until Claude returned. We walked around some more, took a water bus back to the train station, and left for Florence that night.

Due to poor planning, we are staying in three different hotels during our three nights in Florence--many things are booked up because it's apparently a major holiday weekend in Italy and France. To mitigate this, we spent yesterday morning bouncing between the train station and the internet cafe, figuring out the rest of our trip so that we have guaranteed rooms and don't end up in a similar situation again. We discovered that we could not get rooms in Nice or Monaco, much to our dismay--I was looking forward to using the warm Mediterranean air to cure my violent cough. Instead, we're taking a train tomorrow morning to Monaco, spending the afternoon and evening there, and then overnighting to Bordeaux, where we will spend two days in the wine country. Then we're going overnight to Paris, where we will spend another two days before I go back to London. So, I'll have a bit of time in London to shop, relax, and do other fun things.

I really shouldn't be sitting in an internet cafe, but I needed to make a hotel reservation for London, and I wanted a break from the oppressive heat and the constant walking in circles. I may have railed against having drivers in India--and while I will continue to maintain that having my own car is the best, I have come to realize that having any car at all is a blessing that can't be denied. Due to some questionable decisions on our part, the only place where we will have spent two nights in a row on the entire trip is in the first hostel that we stayed at in Rome, which means that I have spent most of my vacation dragging my backpack across train stations and hostels/hotels all across Europe. However, we have seen some truly breathtaking things--we crossed the Ponte Vecchio last night (the only bridge in Florence that Hitler didn't blow up) and walked up a steep hill, where we got an amazing view of the Duomo at sunset. I also had a steak last night, which was amazing--it was the first steak I'd had in almost four months, and it made my stomach hurt, but it was so freaking tasty that the pain was acceptable.

Okay, enough sitting at the computer--it's time to go see something, and then meet Claudia for an afternoon of museum hopping. We're going to miss the Uffizi Gallery because the line to get in is about five hours and they are no longer taking advanced bookings, but there are many other exciting things to see in Florence. Take care, everyone! I'll write again someday, perhaps.

day 4: london to rome

Canàt write long and also canàt figure out how to use this keyboard, so bear with me. Claudia and I successfully made it to Rome, despite almost missing our flight because Ryanair is so "economical" that their airport stretches out over about five miles and has no moving walkways. We found our hotel, showered, and saw the Coliseum, which was outstanding--I was told that I was a huge dork for even thinking about the game "Civilization" whilst there, but I did, so sue me. Anyway, tomorrow itàs the Vatican, and then weàre taking a night train to Venice, so I probably wonàt write again for a couple of days. Take care!

day 3: london (goodbye walter, temple, st. pauls, tate modern)

Today was exhausting but exhilirating. We very sadly bid farewell to Walter, after eating breakfast in the hostel and then sitting at a cafe for awhile until it was time to part ways. I thought that a pall would be cast over the rest of the day, but we bounced back rather quickly. We switched hostels to be closer to Kings Cross--we're in the place that I stayed when I was in London three years ago, which is a bit strange. Then, we started walking towards the Thames, hopped on a bus, and made it to the Temple. It was built in the 1100s by the Knights Templar, and is the only round church in existence in London; it also figured prominently in 'The Da Vinci Code'. It was absolutely breathtaking, and v. well hidden amongst the Inns of Court (which took over the lease when the Knights were persecuted into oblivion several centuries ago). Then, we headed for St. Pauls, which was definitely worth the visit; it's the second biggest dome in Christendom (after the Vatican) and has absolutely amazing gold, mosaics, stones, and memorials to fallen soldiers both famous (Nelson, for example) and obscure (those who died in Granada), as well as artists (William Blake) and religious men (John Donne, former dean of St. Pauls, and the one who warned us not to ask for whom the bell tolls). We climbed up to the dome; I made it to the second level (approximately 400 steps), but the climb to the very top required going up an open metalwork spiral staircase, which was making me dizzy and extremely afraid, so I went back to the bottom and appreciated the splendour of the cathedral from the level on which it was meant to be experienced.

After the two churches, we went to worship modern art at the Tate Modern; I hate modern art, so much of it was lost on me, but there were several pieces that unexpectedly tugged at something deep within me (a dozen roses in red acrylic to memorialize Jackie Kennedy, some canvasses of the four seasons by Cy Twombly). At this point, we were weak from hunger since we had not eaten lunch, and so we stopped at a pub, where I had hamburger #2 of my trip. Now we're back at the hostel, and we just arranged for a room so that Claude and I have someplace to stay in Rome tomorrow. I'm quite excited to see the cradle of the Renaissance, and to have the opportunity to spread my plague to the country that was so affected by the medieval outbreak--I so far have met with failure in my attempts to infect my friends, but hopefully the Italians will have less resistance. I'm still coughing like crazy, but other than that (and the blisters on my feet), I feel ten million times better.

Vacation never lasts long enough, but we're packing a lot into a short period of time; this will ensure that I return to India a) nostalgic for relatively clean Western Europe, and b) completely exhausted. Now, though, I should go do something that doesn't involve staring at the computer!

days 1/2: hyderabad, bombay, london

It's been a very hectic couple of days and I'm exhausted. Upon further reflection I probably would have missed my flight on Friday even if my Hyderabad flight had been on time; the connection in Bombay was extremely tight, mostly due to the sheer ineptitude of the connections between the domestic and international terminals. However, I was amazed to note that Hyderabad has discovered the future: they still use old-fashioned squat toilets in the airport (i.e. the kind with a hole in the ground and places for your feet, with a bucket provided to clean yourself with in a way that is inexplicable to someone who likes to use toilet paper)--but their squat toilets now have motion sensors to start automatic flushing. Weird, eh?

So I made it to London, found Walter, Claudia, and Claudia's cousin at the hostel, and promptly went out for a hamburger. It made my stomach hurt, but it was awesome. Today, we had dim sum (!!--but not as good as the Hong Kong Flower Lounge), then walked around a lot, saw Picadilly Circus, St. James' Park, Buckingham Palace, the outside of Westminster Abbey, London Bridge, walked across the Tower Bridge, and saw the Tower of London. The yeoman tour of the Tower was rather hilarious, and we saw the crown jewels--it's wonderful that hundreds of years of British exploitation of the undeveloped world led to such beautiful diamonds as the Koh-i-noor, now set in a gorgeous sceptre. Then we had dinner, and came back to the hostel, which was quite the ordeal since many of the Tube lines that would be most convenient for us were closed for weekend maintenance.

Walter goes back to Scotland tomorrow, and Claudia, the cousin and I are going to do the Tate Modern and something else, probably, before Claudia and I leave for Rome early Tuesday morning. I am much enamored with London on this, my second visit--the first time I came, I thought it was dirty (since I had just arrived from Iowa). But this second time, after spending almost four months in India, it seems to be the cleanest, most wonderful place in the world. I can't wait for Italy!

Okay, this was inane, but I'm running out of time on my connection...more later.

you can check out but you can never leave

Well, that was fun! I knew that I was in for a treat when I was getting ready this morning and Ismail called to tell me that I needed to leave quickly because the President of India was flying into Hyderabad this morning and consequently traffic around the airport would be bad. True to Indian form, the traffic turned out to be the least of my concerns--it was actually better than it usually is, which isn't saying much. I got to the airport with plenty of time, checked in easily, and sat down to wait. However, the wait began to stretch on longer than it should have, because the plane that I was supposed to take had not yet arrived. I finally asked one of the Jet Airways staff whether I would make my connection in Mumbai, since the plane was over an hour late and my layover was slightly less than two hours. In the States, an hour layover would still be enough, but Ismail told me that the international terminal of the Mumbai airport is seven kilometers from the domestic terminal and that I cannot take taxis (only the bus) because the taxis are 'danger'. The attendant initially said that I would make my connection--but then he found me ten minutes later to tell me that he was wrong. So, I went downstairs, where the real entertainment began.

The Jet Airways staff was friendly, and they were already harried by another guy who was supposed to be on my London flight and who was much less understanding than I was. However, they were also incompetent, as demonstrated by the fact that even though there is only one Jet Airways flight to London every day, it took them almost two hours to decide that the only way for me to get to London is to take tomorrow's flight. They initially looked into other airlines for me, telling me that they would refund my current ticket and let me purchase another airline's ticket (at a quoted price lower than I had actually paid for this ticket in the first place!)--but then they told me 45 minutes later that they would not refund me my money or pay for the new ticket, and so my only option was to let them rebook me on tomorrow's flight.

Despite that, things worked out fairly well. Ismail had a driver pick me up, and I took the liberty of stopping at Shoppers Stop (imagine running errands alone!), where I drowned my sorrows in purchasing undergarments. I spent as much as I would have spent on a trip to Victoria's Secret--but since everything is cheap here, I effectively doubled my lingerie stockpile, doubtlessly saving myself piles of money that I would have burned buying more underwear in London. I also found a Georgette Heyer novel ('Devil's Cub') that I've been looking for for ages. When I got home, Walter was able to rebook his flight so that he doesn't have to spend Friday alone in London, and I was able to switch my hotel reservation to the last night of my trip, rather than my first, thus saving myself a lot of money and a lot of headaches. Tomorrow, I can try it all again! Hopefully it will be fine--they booked me on an earlier flight out of Hyderabad so that I have more room for maneuvering in case there are more delays.

I just ate a lot of pizza and garlic bread from Pizza Hut--since that was my first really big meal since the Taj brunch/Peshawri's last Sunday, it's no wonder that it made me feel both great and terrible all at once. Now I'm going to lie on my bed, read my book, and enjoy the beginning of my vacation.

did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there?

I'm feeling about ten times better than I did yesterday, even if I still get sweaty and nauseous when I have to lift things, and even if I get an unstoppable cough every time I try to laugh. To Walter's mom: I will do my best not to get your son sick. However, I'm secretly hoping that this will turn into the bubonic plague, in which case no one in Europe is safe, but I'm sure that if anyone could survive it, Walter could.

It's a little after 1am, and I need to leave the house in approximately seven hours. But, I'm all packed up, I think; right now I have everything stuffed into my everyday backpack in an effort to keep myself from shopping when I get to Europe (and to prevent myself from having to check luggage), but if I decide overnight that that's a bad decision, I'll just drop the smaller backpack in my actual backpacking backpack and take off. I just realized that I really should do that, since I want to buy a pillow in Europe--the pillows here really suck. I know, I'm such a freak for bedding, but I can't help it.

So, I won't be writing every single day, most likely, but I can't stay away from the internet for too long or I'll go crazy, so I'll endeavor to check in every couple of days. But before I go, one more thing--I got promoted! Great way to go on vacation, eh? That was the meeting that I couldn't miss yesterday, but I couldn't say anything until it was officially announced. It was pretty funny--while I was getting promoted, I was lightheaded, feverish, exhausted, coughing, and voiceless. My manager promoted me and immediately told me to go home, which was nice of her. Now, I can go on vacation v. happy.

Okay, time for bed! Take care, my friends, and I'll be thinking of you as I drag Walter all over London tomorrow looking for a hamburger tasty enough to make up for the fact that I'll contract mad cow disease from it.

i won't be held responsible...she fell in love in the first place

I slept eleven hours last night, and woke up feeling marginally better than yesterday, although my voice was almost gone. I went into the office around noon because I had a meeting at two that I couldn't reschedule. However, the trip to the office exhausted me; I may not be at peak human fitness levels, but I definitely don't start sweating just from walking to the elevator at work, which indicates that my fever is still going. When I got there, people told me I looked as pink as my shirt; by the time I left at three, they told me I was deathly pale. The brutal honesty of Hyderabadis is rather difficult to withstand, especially when one isn't feeling well, since they definitely don't let you forget when you look awful.

But illness notwithstanding, I'm still going to London! Jet Airways reports that their schedule is back to normal, so it looks like I'll make it after all, if I'm able to pack and get everything done that I need to accomplish first. Walter's meeting me in London on Friday, which is going to be super-fun; I haven't seen him since January, so it should be a great weekend.

Okay, I'm sorry that the blog has just been a diary of my illness for the past few days--I'm turning into my Gram Holder. And yes, for those of you who believe that I'm a hick, I call my grandmothers 'Gram'. You'll just have to get over it. Now, it's time for bed, and hopefully I'll stop feeling all weird and lightheaded before I get on the plane, or it could be quite an interesting trip.

and when your fear subsides, and shadows still remain

I'm miserably ill. I went home around 2:30pm today, then went to a doctor at the Apollo Hospital. The hospital, as usual, was complete chaos; they don't have any sort of standardized appointment system, so you just go stand outside the doctor's door, and people constantly cut the line, and as soon as the door opens to let the previous patient leave, there's a rush to push into the room. People don't really care about privacy at all, and so dudes will just open the doctor's door to see what he's doing to the current person. I do feel for the doctor, since he seemed extremely busy, but I was too cranky to be really sympathetic. Today was one of those days when I wished I was anywhere but India--the hospital was an annoying experience that did not really give me any hope of getting better. The doctor said that he thinks I have laryngitis, and it's probably viral, but he gave me some antibiotics anyway, and some paracetamol (tylenol), and some vitamins that are much too large for me to swallow. He said that if I don't feel better in a couple of days, I should come back and get a blood test, but that sounds like the least fun thing I could possibly do, and so I'm going to do my best to avoid it. However, I'm guessing that my flight to London will not be pleasant.

Staying in the apartment during the day is an exercise in frustration. I am really sick of servants--there is such a language gap, and it's impossible to really get anything right the first time. When I came home at 2:30, I was only going to be here half an hour, and then I was going to the doctor. Narseema was cleaning someone else's room, but when she saw me, she said that she had to finish cleaning my room before I could go in. I tried to tell her that I was only going to be home for thirty minutes and that I really just wanted a nap (since I was desperately tired), but she refused to leave me alone, and so I had to wait to take a nap until she was done. So, my nap was only fifteen minutes--and I couldn't sleep downstairs on the swing because the freaking kids were hanging out down there, screaming as usual. Their apartment is seriously fifteen feet from ours, but they feel the need to hang out in ours all the time. If I were a mother, I would a) get my children out of a house where someone was ill for their own sake, and b) get my children out of a house where someone was ill so that they didn't disturb the person who was obviously in need of sleep and quiet. But this apparently didn't occur to anyone downstairs; they were still there when I got back from the doctor, and although I successfully slept for a couple of hours, I could hear them whenever I woke up. This makes me feel like a terrible person, but whatever.

I don't want to go to work tomorrow, but I have stuff that needs to get done before I leave for Europe. There are a couple of meetings in the afternoon that I can't miss, so I may sleep in and then go to the office. We shall see, we shall see.

I'm sorry that this turned into a sobfest--I will hopefully be in a better mood tomorrow. Now, though, I'm going to go to bed!

first you need (that's what you get for falling in love)...then you bleed (you get a little but it's never enough)

If you figure out what song the title is from, I will send you some sketchy pharmaceuticals from India.

I came home early from work today. I toughed it out until around three, when two things happened almost simultaneously: Arod IM'd me to tell me to go home because she could hear me coughing from her desk, and I sneezed uncontrollably and blew snot all over my hand. Gross, eh? That's when I knew that it was time to give up. So I came home, but had to hang out downstairs for awhile because Narseema was cleaning my room; I got driven upstairs when the kids showed up pounding on the door and hitting each other while screaming as loudly as possible. I tried to sleep, but wasn't able to, so I laid around and read a book, tried to sleep some more, and generally felt like a failure. It's Lauren's birthday today, so I put in an appearance at her birthday party, but I spent most of my time being quiet and trying not to cough. Fun times!

I called Jet Airways, since most flights in and out of Bombay are currently cancelled, but they confirmed my seat for the flights on Friday, so I'm maintaining hope. As long as they don't get another apocalyptic flood, I will hopefully make it to Europe. Then, the fun can ensue in earnest!

I really have to go to work tomorrow, since if I'm going on vacation, I have too much to do to spend time sitting around in my apartment. I think I'm going to take the extreme step of popping an Ambien, since I haven't slept more than two hours straight in the past three nights and the tiredness is taking its toll. But, if all goes well, I will be in London four nights from now!