Titles are for chumps

I told everyone we’d have to advance our clocks by 30 minutes for Chennai. I told em.

I’ve converted two more good souls to David Crossism. I got Eric back when we were on safari. Yesterday, it was Kevin. Hell yeah. It’s relieving to have someone to start quoting redneck fight with.

Eat the flag. Eat it.

I spent a good portion of last night giving out massages. Three or four of them. My hands were killing me, but it felt nice to cause relief (rather than engender fear) in people. Dannie, Wendy, and Andrea all professed their love and/or wills to bear my children during their massages last night.

Ooh, that reminds me: I have to book my Beijing trip. I decided to accept Andrea’s invitation to go along with their plans to the Great Wall. Dannie and I’ll take the sleeper train to Beijing and meet up with Wendy, Kevin, Andrea & Eric. That way, we’ll save a couple-few hundred.

I’ve started going to the gym again. Also, I’m going to have to change my diet. Otherwise, I’m just going to end up walking off this ship weighing more though I’ve been eating less thanks to the menu here. Pasta, potatoes, pasta, potatoes, pasta, potatoes, no protein.

So I think this is what’ll be up: I’ll eat breakfast (if feel like waking up). I’ll try to stay away from any cereal that has much sugar in it. I’ll reeeeeally try to enjoy the eggs, and maybe I’ll trick myself into liking sausage. Oh, protein, please come back to me. Or maybe I’ll just have plain yoghurt like I did today.

Lunch, I’ll skip. I can’t rely on the dressing here being appetizing to me on a daily basis, but when it is, I’ll have a salad and some fruit.

Somewhere between breakfast and dinner, I’ll have a Balance bar. I’ve succumbed to purchasing my veg-friendly/moderately non-disgusting protein source from Brian at the snack bar.

I’ll eat dinner…. Or maybe I’ll skip dinner and eat lunch. I don’t know. I can’t afford to have two nothing-but-starchy-carbs meals a day.

Gah… why have we only had tofu one day out of the last fifty?

I’ll be hitting up the ol’ gym at least once a day.

Moving on, I love the interport lecturers for India. They’re beautiful inside and out. I find them both intellectually attractive and aesthetically pleasing. The woman, Prujval, has sit in on a couple of my classes. I love to hear her talk. She’s insightful and wise, and the way she speaks in calming to me. Her husband has been speaking every day in Global Studies. I adore his sarcasm. “I love this kind of bureaucratic language” sounds better in an Indian accent.

Gotta run.