( continues...) biggest Indian movie star of all time. Living, definitely. And he's still making movies, but he seems to find time to endorse EVERYTHING EVER. Chocolate. Paint. Batteries. Cell phones. It's like he's the biggest sell-out of all time too.

We took a little day trip on Sunday. It was over an hour away, and most everyone was falling asleep. Jigna was sleeping in my mom's lap. My brother and I were listening to Hot Hot Heat's Make Up the Breakdown. Ashabhabi was to my left, and I could see her nodding off. Many complicated thoughts flew through my head. On the one hand, seeing someone uncomfortable and not doing anything about it if you can is stupid. On the other hand, I didn't want to do anything to make her feel weird. I thought the fact that we were the same age would make things a little sticky. I couldn't just put my arm around her or let her lie down on my lap like I could with my mom or an older bhabi, right? I finally caved and told her to put her head on my shoulder so her head would stop bobbing up and down. She did, and I leaned my head against hers, holding it down with my neck so it wouldn't be rattled by all the bumps. I just wanted to do something to let her know I accepted her, that she was family. The excessive bumps finally caused her to get up. I asked her if she wanted to lie down like Jigna, and she said it was okay. She remained awake till we got there.

Devka Beach, in the state of Daman. It was a tourist attraction. There was a poor excuse for an amusement park. Leading up to a poor excuse for a beach. It had dried up so much the water was yards and yards and yards away from the sand. Jigna and my dad rode a camel. I rode a horse.

Gujarat is a dry state, which explained the curious lack of alcohol. Daman, however, was not, and that's why people came to Devka Beach. A women walked around offering us beer, despite the large sign saying alcohol consumption was not allowed in the park.

We drove to the nearby town of Nani, where my brother noticed something: holy shit, there were gay men walking around in broad daylight! Holding hands! How utterly glorious.

We ate at an expensive restaurant where entrees cost hundreds of rupees. For the first time since the plane, we had chicken. It was good. The meal wasn't expensive by our standards (the most expensive thing was five dollars), but compared to how we had eaten before, it certainly was. We saw a nice sunset, though.

On the way home, the game was afoot again. I offered Ashabhabi my shoulder again, and she took it. Unbeknownst to her but knownst to me, it was actually kind of awkward for me since I had to remain a little slouched, and I didn't want to adjust myself too much and give her the impression it was making my back hurt. It would have been more comfortable with my arm around her, but I didn't want to go there. Across from me, my mom was sleeping with my dad's arm around her (note: she had put it there). It was a husband/wife thing. The bumps were too much again, and I told her she could lie in my lap, and this time she did, and I was more comfortable now that I could sit properly and had a pretty girl in my lap. And see. Here we have the eternal struggle between gentleman and cad, the way I try to resist the temptation to look down girls' shirts. It's not like I was attracted to her, by any means, but I was afraid I would be in some way. She was in my lap, and settling in quite nicely. While reading The Stand, I really identified with Larry Underwood's conflict in realizing that maybe, just maybe, he ain't no nice guy.

After a while, she got up. I let her be as my brother and I listened to Our Lady Peace. Later, without provocation, she took my shoulder for a while. I had thoughts like, "That's a nice neck. I'd like to kiss it." And I knew I was only thinking those thoughts because I didn't want to be thinking those thoughts. It was very annoying because I didn't want it to be A Big Thing. She got up, and for the rest of the trip, I let her be, even when she bent completely at the waist and (continued...)

( continues...) slept in her own lap.

Hirenbhai's wedding was next, and the reason I have to miss class. Hirenbhai is Mehulbhai's cousin. At his haatak, I had to use the Indian "toilet" for the first time in eight years. And I was wearing a kafni, whose top went past my knees, so I had to hold all that up. And I squatted the wrong way, meaning my shit fell not into the water but on the surface, accumulating and stinking until I washed it down with a bucket of water. Thankfully, I had some toilet tissue, so I didn't have to do the hand thing.

We were watching Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves on Zee Movie Zone, and there was a scene like dozens we had seen before, of a line of men shooting arrows at their foes. I had a thought, though, one I'd never had all these years. I turned to my brother: "Hey, Kiran, what if they all shot at the same person?" And he went apeshit cause he'd had the exact same epiphany. Yet another example of our psychic bond.

Kiran and I figured out why you can just throw trash on the ground in India. All the animals eat it.

Downtown Surat looks more like you'd expect a city to look like although still, you know, Indian. There are lanes, and a traffic light people actually seem to obey. Buildings look newer and swankier. We saw a movie theater. The most expensive ticket was a hundred rupees, about $2.50. We also ate at a Pizza Hut! The pizza was a bit different, especially the sauce, but it was still good. Afterward, we stopped by a juice place where I had fresh strawberry juice.

Today was Hirenbhai's wedding, which was pretty much like Mehulbhai's wedding. My brother and I cut out early, taking a rickshaw home with Dada and Suresh Uncle. The main thing I remember is this girl in a purple sari (weirdly enough, Nikky had been wearing a purple sari too) from the bride's side. My brother didn't think she was pretty, and maybe she wasn't spectacular in any way, but I liked her. What really got me was her smile. It was the kind that causes an instinctive reaction in your body to smile too, it makes you that happy. I hadn't seen a smile like that in a long time. I would marry her if she spoke English and were everything else I want in a woman.

Jilli, I hope this is just a temporary setback.

Jilli, I'm so sorry for your friend. I'm glad she's got such an organized group for support. I hope things turn around.

Cashmere, any more news on your mom?

They've transferred her to a larger hospital about 45 minutes away (a MUCH better hospital with a large cardiac unit). She'll be undergoing more testing to determine the extent of the damage (they think she had a mild heart attack) or at least see if there is blockage. She may have to undergo surgery--either angioplasty, stints or even open heart (worst case scenario). She's comfortable right now, according to my twin. I'm heading up there this weekend, anyway. Although I may end up taking Owen with me and leaving tomorrow, depending on what we find out.

I hope it goes well. Do you know if they've stabilized her sugar?

How are you doing?

All good thoughts for Jilli's friends, healing, strength, and coping vibes for them, and ease and comfort, too.

And more of the same for Cashmere's mom, and Cashmere herself, and the family.

Deb, it's never too much to spend if it makes you feel fabulous--that's worth spending on.

And now I'm off for dinner and Lost. Later, my lovelies.

{{{Cashmere and family}}}

Health~ma to Cashmere's mom.

Whoa. Manolo dug up the Worst Outfit Yet. [link]

Betsy, WHOA--that is one BAAAAD outfit.

Do you know if they've stabilized her sugar?

I think they're getting her stabilized. I haven't really found out yet.

How are you doing?

Christopher came home early today so I could try to recover from this nasty cold that WON'T GO AWAY. Other than that, I'm pretty good except for wanting to beat my mother until she gets some sense and starts taking responsibilty for her health.