Rickshaw

This is becoming a routine. Every night at eight, the guys upstairs come down to take us to "go internet."

Anyway. Christmas shopping is hell. No matter what country you're in. That's not to say I didn't get it done... because it is. Every last iota. I found good presents for snowdrop24 and osiris13, and I found a really gorgeous something for purplerainbow, so nice I got one for myself. The same for Becca, actually... also stuff for Meg and Bev and a little something I picked up for eniddy. It's only little, but I think she'll like it...

We did it all at Connaught Place. Which is something odd in itself... the strange juxtaposition of street names here. You have Connaught Place, Delhi's main shopping street, next to Indira Chowk, and Chelmsford Road next to Sansad Bhawan. It's all the British Raj in India, of course, but my rants on that can wait for another time.

Ooh, yes, rode a rickshaw. I love rickshaws, I really do. There were four of us and all our shopping on the one rickshaw, and we were wobbling all over the place, and I was giggling wildly, and the street thought we were crazy.

Um... what else? Yes... my mother is running around, shrieking that someone's stolen the toilet paper. After some minutes of this, Pedar informed her she sounded like Hawkeye... I giggled, and of course the family wanted to know the joke, which was really extraordinarily difficult to explain.

And that is that.