Fifteen hundred dollars gone... poof, just like that

I've been waiting for just the right moment. The anticipation has been kept at bay, barely, for months while I sweated (literally) and scrimped (mostly literally) and saved (not quite literally). I'd been price-checking and date-changing and pathologically obsessing over the getting the dates *just* right. And just when I have an itinerary mapped out and the price has been fixed for weeks and weeks, I go to buy the ticket. Only to find that it had all gone kerblewey overnight.

"TWENTY-FIVE HUNDRED MOTHERFUCKING DOLLARS?! ARE YOU SHITTING ME?"

No, unfortunately, britishair.com was not shitting me. From Seattle to London to Kolkata (Calcutta), then New Delhi to London to Seattle had jumped from $1574 as of LAST freaking NIGHT to $2499. Same dates. Same *everything*.

Okay, don't panic, right? Right! Change dates. Change something. Change anything, goddammit!

Fortunately it all ended up ok. Not quite the route I was planning on taking, but it'll work and it was only $1482 instead of $1574. For whatever reason, as of today flying into Kolkata completely buggered everything. The peevish snobbism I had anticipated relishing from arriving into India via Kolkata instead of pedestrian New Delhi has sadly evaporated, but I'll live.

Now my bank account is exactly one thousand, four hundred and eighty-two dollars less than it was about three hours ago. All from a few little clicks on the keyboard. And I couldn't be happier.

Mom, if you're reading this, I'll be fine. Promise.

Although.

Perhaps I would be remiss if I didn't mention that while I'm completely and totally stoked about my upcoming trip to India, neither am I a complete moron. I'm aware of the likely trials, tribulations and, yes, dangers of traveling alone in a culture where women still throw themselves, alive, onto the funeral pyres of their deceased husbands because without a man they cease to exist. (Please note: this is becoming increasingly less common.) I've heard all the stories-- "you won't be able to walk down the street without being groped", "dress conservatively and you'll be treated better", "don't look men in the eye or they'll think you're a whore" and, perhaps my personal favorite: "I know several strong, independent female travelers and they were raped when they went to India alone."

Yeah, thanks, guys. I'm just glad none of you has my mom's phone number or email address, mmkay?

I'm not unaware. I KNOW it's a risk. I KNOW that traveling with a companion, especially a male companion, is far more desirable (in some respects) than going alone. I KNOW I'm going to be harrassed. But christ on a pogo stick, people. I get harrassed almost as bad as that wandering around any major European city or hell, even in Seattle on a night out. (Ok, that last one was a fib. Seattle is pretty tame.) What the hell am I supposed to do? Sit at home and not go anywhere in fear of what *might* happen just because I have a vagina? Sorry, I don't fricking think so. Besides, when I asked them last spring, none of my guy friends were interested in going to India with me. Har.

I'm taking precautions with my personal safety. And I'm traveling to parts of the country that have a more cosmopolitan view of lone female travelers. I'm going to be on my guard and will routinely *expect* harrassment in some form or another. And perhaps most importantly of all: I'm NOT going to be dyeing my hair blonde or red anytime soon, so I'll have a slightly easier time of blending in.

I have recently come to the conclusion that the facets of buying a multi-city plane ticket-- basically amounting to a round-the-world trip-- is a lot like being on drugs. (Disregard the fact that I've never actually done any drugs except some really nasty buggers for a tonsillectomy.) Dates and times and changing dates and changing times and then changing dates again! And changing cities on different dates! And do I really want to fly out of Delhi at 3:30am? SURE!!!! You know why? Because the idea of finding my way and checking in at the airport at 1:00am in Delhi is slightly more palatable than checking in at 4:00am for the 6:00am flight to London. CHRIST. See what I mean?

And the cost. India may not take much out of my pocket but the sodding plane ticket alone is enough to send Chuck Norris into tears. Then there's the whole requesting a month off from work thing. Heh. It's kind of a catch-22, right? I can't request the dates off of work until I buy the ticket (because of dicking around with the aforementioned cities and dates thing) but it's kinda hard to buy the ticket without having the dates approved.

Fuck it.

So I've finally entered the, like, 21st centry and gotten myself a blog I can actually use. Probably I'll end up using this mostly as a way to keep in touch whilst cavorting around the countryside of wherever I happen to be when blogging strikes my fancy. Or maybe it'll be my own private little bitching forum. Or maybe it'll mold and become obsolete in about 5 minutes. Either way you're reading this so that has to count for something.