Now that the launching is over, JC and I recover from a drunken Bombay book launch and an even more drunken after party by sitting in my room and working on our respective laptops. I use 'working' loosely here. Yes, I did write a column and yes, he did do a little coding type thing but mostly I've been reading The Princess Bride as an ebook and he's playing some random game where you pull the snot out of a nose and then swing it about. I will never understand boys.
The Bombay launch was excellent fun though. It seemed a smaller crowd than the Delhi one, but I looked very nice (and really, isn't that all that matters?) in a blue off-shoulder dress with a red belt and red shoes. Very Wonder Woman. And I had my hair done in long loose curls and I tossed it about all through a Star News interview in the hopes that it would distract from my horrible Hindi. (My Hindi never used to be this bad! I think a year and a half in Bombay has ruined my Delhi-perfect Hindi, and if you say it wasn't that perfect to begin with, I will track you down and bite you.)
I see somewhere in all the distraction, that the monsoon is over. How sad. I am now sweltering in track pants and a t-shirt (put on instead of short-shorts for the benefit of the dudes who came today to fix the tubelight in the bathroom. After months of being too lazy to fix it--and also having been told by the previous guy who came that we had termites! in our wiring so he'd have to do something fancy involving white wire and external lines, we've been bathing by candlelight, which is very pretty but accounts for weird unshaven patches on my legs where I haven't been able to see.)
AND wouldn't you know it? I got my period bright and early yesterday morning and so I popped a Cyclopam which made me feel all giddy and woozy and when I met an erstwhile Flatmate travelling through Bombay she said in all likelihood Cyclopam had been banned because of lead content. Lead content! I squeaked, why are they still selling it? She shrugged, her dad's a doctor so she Knows These Things. Nothing a little friendly Google search can't help me with. I found a site called Indiwo (short for Indian Women, which is just about the CRAPPIEST name I can think of for a website, and which also sounds a little like Indie Woe which means it's confusing coz I could just as well think it was a site about emo bands, you know?) According to this site, Cyclopam is the way to go. Kay. I'll just battle it out then.
I stole the huge poster from Blue Frog which had the book jacket on it and me and all sorts of pretty things. It's HUGE. I'm thinking of getting it framed but where to hang it? Also, quick Miss Manners question: is it MASSIVELY egotistical to display one's own triumphs in one's house in a prominent manner? I guess it's similar to hanging up sports trophies only in pink and blue and yellow.
In the terrible puns department:
JC: I like your knees. Normally, I don't like people's knees but I like yours.
Me: My knees? That's just about the weirdest compliment I've ever received.
JC: But you have lovely knees!
Me: Thank you. I do like a man who understands my knees.
I guess you could say I really knee-d him.
I'll stop now, promise.