Shocking, I know.
Some things I have learned so far (in no particular order):
1. I am grumpy when tired.
2. I do not forgive easily.
3. I have a sweet tooth. And spice tooth. The more excess the better.
4. I like to feel like a girl (and desperately want a new wardrobe and for my stolen makeup bag to be *^*$ing returned).
5. I am a practical person.
6. I am very American (in the eyes of my European, African, and Kiwi counterparts).
7. Apparently not everyone likes to dance. (Also shocking. Still working on the why, stay tuned for further revelations).
8. I hate (I mean detest, despise, push you off a moving vehicle kind of dislike) needy people. Man up, grow a pair, and get over it.
9. "Healthy" is a relative term.
10. If no one saw you eat it, it doesn't count.
And, my latest realization:
11. I must marry a man who can give excellent massages, who is patient, and who does not get stressed out when booking itineraries (particularly on foreign websites).
This very important discovery occurred around 9 pm last night when I was bent over the laptop with A, the tension in my neck so severe my skull was burning and my frustration building to the point that I simply had to hand over my credit card and laptop and walk away.
It's out of control. The waitlists for trains are a mile (or rather, 34 people) long for the crappy class. Now, we're budgeted on time to get from A to B (A being Delhi and B being Jaisalmer). Especially because my future happiness rests entirely on A, K, and I being able to trot through the Rajistani desert on camel back on Christmas day. What better way to celebrate Christ's birth than treking through the desert on the very same animals that carried gifts and men to adore him. Nothing I tell you. Nothing.
After seven failed attempts to pay and put ourselves as reservation against cancelation number 34-35-and-36, we're finally on. This saga will end in one of two ways. We will not be allowed on the train and I will go absolute mental in order to ensure that Christmas camels occur and thus we end up on dirty crowded bus or in someone's car for a god-forsaken number of hours, or the three of us will end up in the "un-reservable" portion of the train and pay an atrocious amount of money to sit next to the toilet for 19 hours.
There will be camels if it is the last thing I do.
And hopefully no more Indian train booking for the rest of my days.
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