So, my mother's back from Darjeeling. Which means I don't have to keep house and go to fish markets any more. It also means chocolate biscuits, caramel, fudge, cheese straws, alpine cheese, skull cap, humongous umbrella that looks like it was made out of a Scot's kilt, 3 shawls - 2 of which look like they were stolen off a homeless person, and a pair of sneakers which, for some reason my mother bought and wore while she was there, but can't seem to fit into here, in Kolkata. My Mother has a sneaker-fetish. She owns 8 pairs as of now - would've been 9, but she lost a pair in Darj - how you can lose your shoes is inexplicable.
Oh, and horror - a prospective mother-in-law, who went with my mom - has ... bought ... and sent ... outrageous ... UNDERWEAR. .. for me! I've met her twice in my entire life, and she goes and buys these bra-slip type lacey things - 3 of 'em! They're very all-purpose - can fit every sexual fantasy - from seraglio to BDSM - but, but, that's not the point, of course. I can't fit into one of 'em - I mean, I know I'm not particularly well-endowed, but how small does she think I am?! Uhm, this isn't the point either.
The point is, that I'm not marrying her son - never seen him, don't know him, don't care much. And this is a little awkward - but I love the lingerie! :-[ Vexing. I should've guessed there'd be trouble when 13 cackling social butterflies and their husbands, all of whom seem to spend their days making complex calculations as to the bait, date and mate of my marriage, got together for vacation.
Meanwhile, costumes for our show are not ready yet - props are hazardous, or incomplete. My lines are alphabet soup.
Worse yet, I have a paper to write for the Queer Studies course - although I don't know why I should bother - there isn't much hope of my passing the course. Haven't much time to think of a topic, considering last date for submission of abstracts is tomorrow. Thought I'd write on our hijras. [Well, actually, I thought I'd write on Will & Grace, but I doubt I could make that very scholarly.] Turns out everybody's doing eunuchs. I'm doomed.
Nevertheless, let me go nibble on an almond rock.