One Woman's Search for Not A Gotdamn Thing Across All the Countries She's Able to Take Her Broke Ass

11.20.2011

It's Britney, bitch!

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This is what I packed for India. Includes rash guard, reef shoes, board shorts, surf wax, head lamp, and three forms of Pepto (chewables, pills, and the ever-reliable syrup).

What does light packing say about me?

Moral superiority, of course.

At the Dubai airport: MAC and Kiehl's and Creme de la Mer and black burqa'd women and prayer rooms and counters dripping with gold.

I think I can finally stop pretending to be excited about this trip and get to it. First world problems, I know. Like the disgusting bourgeois beast that I am, I actually had to talk about my lack of excitement/dread about this India trip with my therapist.

Yes, I am an asshole.

In other news, all drinks except Champagne are free when flying Emirates, even for the lowly cattle compartment. Oh, that I could avail myself to such wonders, but alas, alcohol is not my forte.

Next stop: New Delhi.

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