It appears that my brother may have finally lost his shit in India. If you thought you and your sibling were polar opposites; compare and contrast my brother and me.

He's been there since December, so it's only natural that he'd lose his marbles at least once, what with the malaria, diarrhea, poverty, bad water, monsoons, etc.

On an even more shocking note, it appears that I actually can have fun in this ass-backwards, podunk town. Last night went to dinner with a fun group of girls—holla—at Ruth's Chris out at Ponte Vedra Beach and then onto a cheesy bar, where we danced to cheesy music. And I ran into an old high school crush in line.

He recognized me right away, which is a little offensive, since I like to think I am a lot better looking now. Then again, in the inimitable words of Elaine Benes, it's entirely possible that I'm not as attractive as I think I am.

Oh well. I try my best.

I will write up my NYC adventures when I feel it's safe to do so, which, if there is a God out there should be soon. I. Really. Freaking. Hope. So. Really. My life is completely in limbo right now and it would be nice to stop swinging.