Still in Singapore, although there’d been some talk of a little jaunt to Delhi for the nuptials of my dad’s friend’s son. (The arm-twisting involved an e-mail from Mowmy saying, “Don’t you want to revisit Monsoon Wedding?”) It’s just as well; having gotten off a plane what seems like just four days ago—wait, it wasjust four days ago—I’m in no mood to pack everything back up and head back to the airport, Monsoon Wedding or no. The deciding factor was the six hundred dollars in “emergency” visa fees it was going to cost us. Yes, that’s right, we were trying to get visas the day before we had to leave. And the adventure came to the end, somehow—after rushing about all morning yesterday, downloading forms and getting sullen passport photos; showing up at the high comm after visa-processing hours; wrangling an audience with the head consular officer dude, a stocky man with an impressive mustache and an all-business attitude—with me standing in the sun in the high comm carpark lying to the First Secretary of the Indian High Commission. How do I do it?

Meanwhile, how is it possible I only touched down on Friday? It’s been mad activity since I got here, super fun all around. Which is way better than sticky crowds all around, which is what Singapore is at Christmastime. Wait, when isn’t it sticky crowds all around in Singapore? Happily, there’s always a seat at the Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf, so I can slowly but surely make my way through all the sweet, sweet varieties of Ice Blendeds. Sometimes all it takes is a pal and a latte, and you’re good for the day.