My long sabbatical from writing is nearly over. Tomorrow we fly home, and I go back to either attempting that always promised, never finished screenplay, or possibly just fiddling with the Awful Space Opera some more. With any luck, I will also become a better, or at least more consistent, blogger. (Eaag. I still hate that word. One of these days I will come up with a better one. Then I will become famous, and all internet denizens will want to copy me. Within a few short years, only the completely out-of-touch will ever utter the B-word in an unironic fashion. Also, tabloids will start rumors that Amy Poehler has had some work done as she begins to resemble me in a very suspicious way.)
(Okay, that last line was weird. And, I'm fairly certain, not funny. But I have a lot of packing to do before that flight and rewriting is just not on the agenda.)
(Also, I keep feeling like this post should involve some sort of mystical reflection on the culture and people of India? And I don't actually have mystical reflections? Danae, you got anything you want to add here? Seriously, leave the damn saris behind. YOU WILL NOT WEAR THEM. Okay, it looks like I'm needed in the luggage assembly area. They're now charging a @$&*# $200 for excess baggage.)
India was all right. I might be back.