I have racked the remains of my fried brain to figure out why I haven't been able to log some of the most eventful days of my life... and this is the best I came up with. Married women can't blog! How else can you explain that I have not found the energy to write in almost 6 months, in spite of the number of memorable things that I have to write about? Like the 300 bucks I won in Las Vegas, or the lonely waterfalls we scrambled up in Hilo... and what was that other thing that's slipping my mind... oh ya, my wedding?
Friends have been asking both Ganya and me whether marriage has changed anything in our relationship. I feel no different now than I did living-in-sin, so I tell them so. Well, except, as I already told you, I can't seem to blog. And I read more trashy chick-lit now than I ever did in my life. I can blame Ramiya for the neverending supply of the 'Shopaholic' books. Or my work that demands constant travel that demands long flights that demand mindless page-turners. Or Ganya, who bolts off to Alaska every other week, since the aforementioned marriage. But I shall 'be-a-man', and roundly place the blame on the strong square shoulders of the institution of marriage. Also, Ganya's ever increasing interest-in-Golf seems to have met his interest-in-me at the wedding and overtaken it at an alarming rate. How do I know? Well, when conversations and quiet times are punctuated with the swish of the seven iron, you kind of know. Mmmm... what else.... Both Ganya and me seem to be drinking more since the wedding. Now, the excuse is "what if we decide to have a baby next year? we will have to be non-alcoholic for a good (gasp!) two years atleast. let's make merry while we can".
So ya, come to think of it, really nothing has changed. Ganya and I travel on work. We drink. I talk, he listens. With Golf club in hand. There's a healthy amount of trashy chick-lit in the world. Ramiya and I read an unhealthy number of them. And I blog about once in six months.
