I’m not going to lie: most of what I know about India to-date I learned from Mindy Kaling, Baloo the bear and that delicious stretch of Lexington Avenue between 25th and 28th Streets. But all that’s about to change. Tonight, I’m hopping a plane to, well, Germany, where I’ll be hopping a second plane to India, where I’ll be spending 10 glorious days celebrating my homeboy Sean’s impending nuptials, avoiding ice like the plague and devising ways to fit a baby Indian elephant into my carry-on suitcase.
I’m super prepared: I got my typhoid and tetanus boosters, alerted all my credit card companies and even dug out my most conservative attire from the depths of my closet. My mom’s concerned that India may not be the safest of destinations for a young woman, but don’t worry: I’ve got two bodyguards, and one of them’s a pirate.
We’ll also be spending all our time (save for his wedding night, I hope) with this bad boy, and something tells me no one wants to mess with this groom to be.
I’ve signed on a couple of friends to write guest blog posts in my absence, so stay tuned in the coming days for updates on running, fitness and a little token Anne-worship from some new voices. Don’t worry: there will still be dog photos. Lots of dog photos. And if I play my cards right in India, perhaps some baby elephant photos upon my return.
Also, happy Valentine’s Day to all you lovers out there! Does everyone else hate the word lovers as much as I do? Yes? OK. Good.