I'm Sarong and Sari*

Just the fact of being in Delhi today made me feel like I'd smoked a pack of cigarettes. The monsoons are here. Still nothing to rival Goa's. So I can't tell if the sky is constantly gray from smog or rain. It's humid, but deliciously (delhi-ciously) temperate.

Work is starting to get interesting. I spent the day poring over the transcript of a debate in the British Parliament over whether to reduce their deadline for certain abortions from 24 weeks to 22, 20, 16, or 12. Clearly not a very divisive issue. It was delightfully quirky. "'Will the honorable lady give way?' 'No I will not give way, I must make progress.'"

The women's clothing here is like crack to me. I've been trying to make a compromise--only acquire things that you may actually wear back in the US. I think it's been successful, until today when I gave in and purchased the outfit of a medieval princess. But Maria says I can wear it to court. What most women wear when they're not in saris seems to be these kurta getups, which involve a pretty shirt that could perhaps also be a dress going down to around your knees, then with a scarf draped over the chest that matches either leggings or poofy pants. I really want to get a picture of a woman in a sari on the back of a motorcycle...they're everywhere! Also, this is until you get into a really fancy neighborhood; then it just looks like you're in Seattle or something.

I'm officially moving. Pri (the Indian lawyer who I'll be moving in with) and I went and checked out the place today. I'm not sure how she and I ended up making this decision, actually, she just sort of appeared in my life one day. There is a terrace, and my first thought was to have a party there, but my second thought was that there's no railing.

I also purchased a cheap plane ticket to go here later this month.

*stolen from Ellen DeGeneres standup routine