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It seems that it is expected that I change my blog name. I mean, not the Kenny thing, which is mine, and that of a state (city) in the US, but the other one. Since I now muse from Chennai, for a little while at least. Or maybe I chatter. Or chirp...

Manjit, Kumar(1), Kumar(2), Kumar(3), Daniel. There are my men now. Unpacker, contractor, electrician, 'landscape artist' (what the fuck is that?). I will check with them regarding appropriate name for this place of mine.

Meanwhile, I am here. We did a crazy road trip. My bones ache still, thinking about it. I suppose it was fun. But now I am just irritated about it as my bones ache. I have not unloaded the car fully since my husband has gone off again to some place, Hyderabad perhaps, which, by the way we stopped at during said road trip as well. Might as well have stayed on, in that case no? Well between then and now our truck load of crap arrived and was duly apportioned into various parts of the house. It led me to put carpet ban on any shopping ventures the husband might be planning to indulge in. Enough! I said. (apart from several other uncharitable things to him regarding his tendencies to gallivant).

Manjit 'liked my voice' or so he said. His side kicks wanted to know if the bottles were Beer or Daaru. Is champagne Daaru I wondered aloud, at which point Manjit might have mentioned my voice again. Manjit must be particularly unparticular about voices, because, well, mine sucks. It generally sounds like a child's and is squeaky and whiny to the hilt. I used to hope my voice would 'break' you know like it does for boys, back then, all those years ago when we would occasionally record our voices on a magnetic cassette for god knows what purpose and mine would come out all squeaky.

How is my first experience in Chennai, do you ask? Details of the Road trip, do you ask? Am I all sorted out for the trip to the US do you ask? Well, ask you must, of course.

For now, I pop off, wondering all the while about how old I must have become (despite the voice) in order to have my body 'talk' to me this way. And also, finally at 9 am, the monster has woken up, her hair all over the place and her long fingers edging towards my biceps, as they are wont to. Be back soon chikaroos.