No, really. Out of my EARS.

Like me, the internet in India works only sporadically, and takes a lot of prodding when out of service for a while. It's up and working again, so I'll update you on my activities!

Monsoon season is coming, so the clouds have been hanging low and it's been raining at night and most mornings. It's getting warmer though, which conspires with the rain to make my hair perfectly flat and make me resemble a drowning rat. But it makes the aveoli in my lungs stretch open, filling them with warm, moist air. It's a nice feeling.. Until you blow your nose and realise the smog has turned it black. Then I really wonder about those aveoli. A country of contradications indeed. So I've been slogging through the humidity, bemoaning the fact the rain has turned my already shifty streets into rivers of cow shit and god knows what else - and trying to stay vertical. I've almost fallen in Sarojini a couple of times - I'm sure they just wait for me and my shitty sense of balance - "Look look, the snotty blonde whitey with the funny Hindi-French is back. Quick, break out the tea, she's headed for a puddle. This should be good, she's wearing flip flops again."

So, in between doing the "Don't fall, god, please don't fall" dance in the middle of the market, I've actually been accomplishing a few things. Well. Ok. So maybe in a former life I really wouldn't have considered these things "accomplishments", but here, with the advice of my mother, I'm taking what I can get. I've been invited to attend the Black and White Ball at the American Embassy, so I began the process of having my.. ahem.. ballgown made. Please don't laugh, it's not at heinous and toile-oreiented as one might think. It's actually a very simple, floor length black strapless gown. But I tell ya, I passed up lots of the good stuff - fuschia lining, a bustle, straps made of big fake roses. And, I might add... they were very surprised. Until I told them that no, I wasn't American, just pretending to be one for a night. To which they told me it would never work without at least a bustle. I'm going to take my chances. It was a neat experience, getting all those tailoring measurements taken etc etc. I had to take off my pants in front of the lady... and it went something like this.

*whoosh* (Off with the pants)

Her - "Oh madame. Those are the smallest underwear I have ever seen."

Me - "Oh. I'm sorry!"

Her taking my measurements was even funnier. Her poor assistant was quite flustered with my whole height-waist-bust ratio, and kept looking at my bra like perhaps I was holding extra shame in there or something. To which I squeezed them and gave her a wink.

My next fitting is on the 25th, I'll let you know if they talk me into any fuschia bustles. It is going to be a close call.

Now, I'm not entirely sure what's going on (surprise surprise) but Delhi is being invaded by Russians. Mean ones. And not ones named Tatania, who survive on cigarettes and the occasional potato. Ones that carry potatoes for snacks and are size 10's stuffed into size 2's and look like maybe their name was actually Vlad to begin with. They're buying in bulk (literally) at Sarojini, and are trying to steal my jewlery at Silverline! I was at the jewlery shop this morning to get earrings, and found these beautiful white saffire chains that I want to go with my ballgown. I actually had them IN MY EARS and this Russian lady took them out and put them on her tray to buy! I may not be a violent person, but I was about to go red on her. Instead, like a lady, I snuck them back and ran out while she wasn't looking. I'm going to talk to Victor (Mr. Almost Poshlust and I's all time favorite Russian DA) to see what can be done. Out of my ears? I mean really. The very least he can do is teach me "Back off ear toucher!" in Russian.

General Lucas was here on Monday for dinner, a very casual "At least you'll get home cooked food while you're on the road" kinda meal. It was nice. He's a very - down to earth guy. I can't see him in uniform, just that nice Cape Breton cable knit fishermans sweater he had on. Hm. Roselyn nearly killed herself and slipped and dumped a bowl of raita (yogurt, onions, garlic) on top of Maggie, our fat beagle, who thought that perhaps her prayers had been answered and yes there WAS food falling from the sky. We didn't even have to wash the floor. Maggie took care of it all and farted yogurt the rest of the night from under the table, where nobody could retrieve her from. I'm sure she was waiting for the rest of the meal to rain down.

Other than that - not too much going on. I'm falling deeper in love with my cook Roselyn, as the other morning she actually asked if I wanted her to blowdry my hair, as I looked so tired. *sniff* She makes me food, she sings me lullabys, she teaches me Hindi and now she wants to take on the only onerous task I perform in my day? I didn't let her, but I will after I propose, that's for damn sure.

This weekend is a busy one. We're having a reception here on Friday night, our house and family required to be in full regalia. I'm running another race on Saturday, then Sunday morning I'm going horseback riding (I'm still trying to convince myself they are just big dogs with big teeth. But all I can think of is Christopher Reeves.) with Col. Bhalla and Bryan, then I'm having lunch with him and a journalist from Outlook magazine. (Basically India's McLeans.) Should be interesting. Please, while you're all at church on Sunday, put in a little something for me. I'm so scared of horses. I can't even imagine what's going to happen to me. But when somebody calls and says "Hey, what are you doing Sunday morning? Care to go horseback riding with me and and the Indian army Col?" What do you say? "I'm sorry, I'm already playing elephant polo with the French. Next time!" Anyone with advice.. ?

That pretty much takes care of my last couple of days - Saphire stealing Russians, raita falling from the sky, ballgown fittings and the western "don't fall don't fall" dance. I miss you all, so very much. I hope everyone is well - thanks for reading. I love that you do.