Bollyblog, Chapter 2

Bollyblog Day 2, September 2, 2012

At departure from Heathrow to Delhi, insecticide was fogged all through the cabin of the plane. I covered my face with my scarf, and then realized the futility of such a thing, in a closed, recirculating-air system. British Airways is now my favorite airline, despite the toxic perfuming (they claim it’s not, but anything that carries the suffix ‘icide’ I generally consider to be less-than-healthy). The meal (curry, with two kinds of chutney and a cardamom and orange ‘posset’ (pudding) was really tasty, the service was great, and one attendant made the trip my best int’l flight ever. Not a lap dance, no, but, I wanted to give him some sort of gold statue. Or a big wad of cash. Instead, I thanked him warmly and fell soundly asleep on my travel pillow of fluffy goodness, in the whole row of empty seats he snagged for me.  I stretched out and slept an amazing 6 hours straight.

Now, I've arrived, and I didn't fall out of the sky. It occurs to me it's a little morbid posting those "psychic" premonitions. Secretly, I wanted the posthumous kudos: "Wow. She could make a decent guacamole AND was a psychic, too!"Ah well. I'll have to conquer telekinesis or something.