Originally posted: March 2nd, 2014
Dear readers, which most likely consists of the following:
-people with an essay they’re procrastinating
-people who accidentally clicked the link I posted
-people who click just to look at the photos (that’s my style)
-or my most loyal reader, my Mom
I am not going to talk about day three of the wedding I came home from tonight, cause I’ll have to cover that some other time. I have 12 gigs of space in my iphone that’s nearly always filled, and if you’re constantly deleting old photos so it will allow you to take more, you know my struggle. Well my brain has a finite number of storage units, so to clear up room for the adventures of tomorrow, here is a textual regurgitation of bits of thought, from the past I have not yet forgot. I jot these things down in this spot, blogging just a bit, it’s not a lot, but just in case my brain shall rot when I’m laid up on a hospice cot, I’ll read this and recall with joy that with the life I’d had, I’d lived a lot.
– Had an entire conversation with Apoorva about driving in India (contrasted with the US) Indian driving is such an organic, fluid, chaotic, yet surprisingly effective system of freestylijng your way through the city. Much more similar to humans sidewalk foot traffic in the way everything works. “Do you boo boo” seems to be the motto here.
-Punjabi people are the most fun
-Today we had some more of the banana bread Apoorva had made a couple days ago. It was super tasty, moist, and everything it should be. That said, I still miss my bread buddy. I want to see my bread buddy and do the breadmaking dance IF YA KNOW WHAT I’M SAYING and then put a lot of butter on the finished product and BAM, share with the rest of 1611
-I miss writing again on the fridge when I visit that place
-Of everything I miss about the USA, I miss wrestling the most. Is that weird?
-I was planning on running into, asking out, and falling in love with a Bollywood heroine *cough Deepika Padukone cough*, but apparently most of them are in Bombay. Woe is me.
-Tonight was “a more informal” night… Every guy was wearing a nice suit. Wait…THAT’S FORMAL!!!
-Haven’t cuddled in over two weeks
-Haven’t had ice cream in just as long!!!! Wild
-We went to Rhea’s house a few nights ago and looked up at the sky. “Look how many stars are out,” one said. “Yeah, so clear tonight.” responded the other. Meanwhile I’m a PA boy sittin there on the ground (while the puppy named AlleyCat runs all over me) lookin at the “stars.” – Six stars by my count. Maybe seven? I’m wondering to myself, how can this be considered a clear night? Come to Cherry Springs, PA and I’ll give you a tour of our entire f&#*ing galaxy. Clear night by Delhi standards is like closing your eyes super hard and pressing on your eyelids until you see a few little specks of light appear. Doesn’t count.
-Everyone in the US told me I was gonna have stomach problems the whole time. I won't be able to handle the food, the water that isn’t safe, etc. I’m happy to say that I’ve been here a week and haven’t had any problems other than clogging Apoorva’s I’m-not-made-to-handle-American-shits toilet, which was followed by me pulling the handle straight out of the head of the plunger, which ended up getting eaten by the toilet. Alright I digress. My stomach is fine. The food is delicious and I haven’t had anything spicy enough to knock me down yet. Even when Apoorva handed me a wrap-looking thing full of some type of chicken in bright red sauce after saying “This is so spicy. I’d offer you some but you’d die.” I took it anyway, and I took it like a man. My face didn’t even start sweating b-B-B-BOOYAAA I got my tolerance up. So much for my Pennsylvania Dutch diet giving me weak taste buds!
-Can’t speak to the water in Delhi, cause I’ve only ever drank water that’s come from Apoorva’s reverse osmosis machine, which spits out better-than-bottled-water-quality water into bottles they keep stocked on the reg. Now that’s some high quality H2O!
-They searched our trunk before letting us into the Sheraton Four Points for the wedding reception. We’ve also had people search under our car for bombs with mirrors on carts before entering places. Didn’t know India was this scared of terrorists.
They have people that cook for them, people that wash their cars daily (and clean the inside of their cars every sunday), they have cleaning ladies, and people that iron all of their clothes. All that combined is ALMOST as impressive as the skill displayed here in the folding of my shirt. I came home from the wedding and this was just sitting here on my bed. So perfect I didn’t even want to touch it. Flabber. Gasted.
I just wanted to scribble some things down
