Milk was a bad choice.

I should be sleeping instead of blogging...but the last several nights I haven't been able to fall asleep until well after 2 or 3am. My goal was to be in bed and asleep by midnight...it's almost 1am. I guess next time I should adjust for a more attainable goal?

I have been thinking a lot about leaving India and what that means for me in the way of closing this chapter, beginning a new one, and figuring out all the pages in between. I couldn't begin to describe my emotions at my current situation but I do know I'm feeling restless and ready for some of the old familiar. Since no detectible levels of processing seem to be occurring in my cerebral real estate, I will move on to more trivial matters.

A few nights ago I went out to see Iron Man 2. I know this might sound so ridiculous, but I wasn't even aware they had movies playing here that are in English without subtitles. In nearly five months, this is the first movie I have gone to (why didn't I know about this phenomenon earlier?!). We went with a new friend who is Indian-American and is studying at a medical college next door to where we live. Being that she is an American transplant, she understands so much of what we have gone through during our time here. It was refreshing to share some discussions and laughs with someone who gets our cultural nuances.

Seeing a movie here is like crossing the border of a militarized country; they search you and the contents of your bag more thoroughly than a high security airport. I was totally busted when they discovered a bag of gummi bears hiding in my purse; they take their food crimes here very seriously. I watched as they temporarily confiscated my snacks and my digital camera battery...yet made no mention of the relatively large pocket knife keeping company with the always perilous gummi samurais and the radioactive battery laser gun. Go figure. They were lucky I wasn't there to stab the employees and make off with all the rupees I could carry.

The only draw backs to my movie going experience (minus the search and seizure bit) were two wholly obnoxious, loud, and crude guys sitting a couple of rows back from us. They were the only ones in the entire theater who thought they had riotous senses of humor...and trust me, they DIDN'T. If I would have heard ONE more comment about Scarlett Johannson's butt mingling in a sentence with the phrase, "your mom...," "last night...," or "*&$%#"...things might have gotten even uglier than their foul sailor mouths. They were Indian-American, also come back to the motherland to study medicine; God help me if I ever wake up in the ER peering into one of their faces. I shudder at the thought.

It's really no wonder why the world hates Americans, producing such upstanding citizens and all.

With that, it is bedtime. Goodnight, India. Goodnight, America. Goodnight, American dudes living in India studying medicine at a nearby college working so hard at your school assignments that you have zero intellectual activity available for use by the end of the night when you are at the movies...you should have stayed at home.