Drone Drone Drone.

I feel like I am standing outside myself looking in. Annoyed that this show is boring; nothing is happening; why is this girl the main actor when nothing happens in her life? Yelling: Fool! No No don't do that! Last time you did, you got screwed. I am not listening to me. Stupid me.

What happens in this story? Am I sure that I want to know?

What are you doing this weekend?

blogger looks weird.

Training is a waste of money and time.
The company's money and my time. Lots and lots of my time. 2 weeks of my time.

1 done, 1 more to go. Pain.

3 movies tonight.

Timeline (haven't seen before) and Runaway Jury and Crimson Tide (have seen only a few million times).

Hope I get out of here soon.

Damn I just heard that I'm stuck here till 7. Damn it. Damn it.

The power in my building gets cut if it drizzles.

Yesterday it poured. Ugh. Today too, it looks like it is going to pour. Damn Damn Damn. The roads fill up with water, the traffic is worse than normal and I GET DRENCHED. Not fun.

No fun at all.

Hey nobody commented on the Sri Sai Deluxe Mess. I really want to know.

I'm in training for the next 2 weeks. Yesterday I made the mistake of sitting in front; every 10 minutes, the guy would look at me and go, "Ok?", "Yes?", "Do you have any doubt?", "Do you understand?", "Am I too fast?". Ugh. I'm going to sit as far away from him as possible today. Which won't be very far, because there are only 8 of us getting trained and the room we are in is barely big enough. But still, at least a little farther away.

Should I be worried that the company I work for has bomb detection gear and uses them? On every vehicle and person to go through their hallowed gates?

I keep taking the same thing everyday for breakfast and lunch, inspite of the fact that I don't like it very much purely because the lines for the other counters are too long. I decided today that enough was enough and had toast & omlette for breakfast. Lets see what I have for lunch.

And continuing on my laundry saga, the landlady's maid washed about 5 days laundry (mine and D's) last night. The smell of freshly washed clothes filled the air. Umm Detergent. We are getting a washing machine this week. Why don't they have laundromats in Hyderabad? (Do they exist in India? Anywhere in India? I'm moving there.)There are a huge number of dry cleaners; wouldn't this be a natural extension?

I dreamt that I left my ID/Swipe card at home and I was holding up a long queue at the gate. And I was getting more and more frantic when the security guy at the gate told me to go back home and not come to work without it. In reality, they just give us a temporary ID and we have to sign in a register or something. But dream world is not the real world. I was so relieved when I woke up.

I get up everyday at 5.57 am. I don't know why but I have been getting up at 5.57am for almost 3 weeks now. Or more. And then I promptly go back to sleep. I get up again anywhere between 6.18 and 6.22. Wake up the roomie. Do the morning rituals and stuff. Leave at around 7.15. Sometimes with D, sometimes without. Today without. She still hadn't woken up when I left. I was so jealous. She sleeps in and I don't. Damn it.

On my way to work today I saw this on a board by the road: Sri Sai Deluxe Mess

Why is a place where food is made and served and eaten called a mess? I wonder what the story behind that is.

I'm re-reading Hitchhiker's Guide and there are so many bits that seem new. I have read the entire volume, cover to cover, atleast 5 times. And everytime, something seems new. I love reading books I have read before. If they are good books.

I tried to read A Hundred Years of Solitude last week. I read one page and gave up. Why are these award winning books so painful?

Does anybody have links to Enid Blyton's Jack, Peggy, Nora, Mike and Prince Paul stories. They were called the Mystery Series, I think. No, maybe the Mystery Series was the one with Miranda the Monkey and Barney and those two (three?) kids. I don't remember.

I dreamt that my roommate told me she made 21 lakh rupees a year. She was very amused when I told her this morn.

I didn't get that massage I wrote about earlier, if any of you (Vish) was wondering.

I'm listening to BonJovi at work. Keep the Faith. I like his voice.

I have a confession to make - I like watching Rockstar Supernova. There I've said it. I don't have any favorites but I definitely didn't like Dilana(?)'s version of Zombie last night.

I'm going to Kodai with some friends during the Aug 15th weekend.

What's up with you people?

Did I ever tell you this?

One morning, a couple of weeks ago, I was walking to the bus. Still groggy. Wishing the world was flat, no uphills. (The path from my house to the road is a little inclined. A little. And in the mornings, it matters.) A middle aged lady, bare foot on a Kinetic Honda, stops me. "Madam Madam. I give massage on this road. You want massage now?"

I bought The Manticore's Secret (Part 2 of the GameWorld Trilogy) and The Avenger (Forsyth) and Fury (Robert K. Tanenbaum) on saturday.

I finished the avenger and fury by saturday night. Avenger was quite boring; Fury was standard fare. I seem to have missed a couple of Butch Karp books in the last few years.

I've read about 200 pages of Manticore's Secret. I'm very confused. He is taking the "there is no good or evil" thing a little too far but I like the way he made the Ravians seem like the good guys in the first book and now they are looking scruples deficient. But the Narak-Danh Gem was a little too obvious and smacked of Chamber of Secrets. Talking book and all.

I don't have much work to do and I have read all the Terry Prachett's on the net; or so it seems.

You are all intelligent, fairly well read and much traveled people. Mostly. So I can safely assume that you know things. You know, things? I have a question about one of those things that I hope you know. Atleast one of you.

What is the purpose of a toilet seat? Not the base, that is required. That flappy thing on top of the base. What is it really there for? Some people like it up, and some like it down. But when we are putting it up or down and cursing people who go before us and put it the way we don’t like it, do we ever think why? Why do we need it? Do we need it? What does it do? Not much really. From what I have seen, it is just there. And even without it, if the base was a little broader, we could use the porcelain god without any trouble. So why don’t the Parrys of the world make a commode without that plastic toilet seat. Won’t it be cheaper? Or would the plastic vendor strikes and angry moronic mobs call for a bandh? And burn buses and break windows?

I understand why the seat cover is required. When the water has run out just after you finished washing your ass or the flush dosen’t work and you don’t want to see the floaters, you NEED the cover. And for other hygiene requirements. But the toilet seat? That is still a mystery.

The world has officially gone to hell.

I went home early yesterday and crashed. I got up at around 9.30pm and my roomie asked me if I had heard about the Mumbai blasts. I was too groggy still to understand what she said and I mumbled something.

Now - Wtf is happening? It is like the Chinese curse - may you live in interesting times. Times are definitely interesting. Damn them. There should be a common sense pill that people can take or a brain pill. Morons. How do argue with people who want you dead, irrespective of what you did (or did not do) or how old you are?

I want to say, Line them up and shoot them all, but more psychopath morons with plastique or semtex or dynamite would only rise up to fill the vacuum.

This is scary.

There are days when I hate people. Today is one of those. I am feeling murderous. Angry. Pissed off. Not Amused.

And today, people want to get cute. Fools. Cross me again and die.

When someone asks me to be somewhere at A hours and B minutes, I expect them to be there at A hours and B - 1 minutes. It that too much to ask? Morons.

Yesterday, bhindi was awesome. And the rotis were small - like puris pretending to be rotis. But they were good.

I had curd and avakai oorugai. Yummy.

I have a stomach ache. The kind that comes every month. I hate it. I feel like sticking a knife in to my gut and tearing out whatever is causing the pain. Damn my ovaries. The pain dosen't stay in my tummy. It grows and spreads to my back and my legs. And then I die.

So farewell folks. If I die today, miss me lots. If I don't, call me.

I have 37 fans on Orkut! WTF?

Awesome weekend people.

Family, food, sleep, hilarious discussions, fights, neices and nephews, cousins (& their respective others), aunts and uncles - action packed weekend.

Indian Airlines called me up at 3am to tell me that my 6am flight was delayed. They wake me up in the middle of the night and give me bad news! Horrible people.

Bought book 1 of Gameworld Trilogy. Brilliant. Will buy 2 and 3 soon.

I made the mistake of saying that I wasn't particualrly religious and people jumped on me. I had an uncle and a cousin trying to 'convert' me. Fun. I love them, but why oh why do they want me to believe everything that they do?

All done. For now,

I hope to be at home today by 5.30. Hope being the operative word. I met this really funny guy today. Nice, but funny. He had a very mobile face and waved his hands all over the place during the conversation. He winked, bulged his eyes, and generally made faces during lunch (which was very good). Clients should visit more often; we get such great food - a little bland, but definitely better than standard fare. All the stress of the past three weeks was worth it. The Gulab Jamun was so yummy. Hot and ummmm.

These people have no idea what spicy is. They found the food, which I found bland (but didn't mind because I am used to my father's unbelievably weak stomach), very spicy. Sad people. I bet they have never had oorugai sadam. Imagine going through life with out kaaram food. tcha.

I have to go pee.

And then make small talk after everybody else finishes making their presentations. Or watch and nod. Or smile till my face breaks. Or all of the above. What a tough life I lead.

The damn wind was blowing hard and fast yesterday. It had the audacity to try to blow me off my path. I'm embarrassed to say that it almost succeeded. Me! I'm stunned.

And in other news, I have a sore throat and I want to sleep. For a long long time.

Last night we were supposed to have dinner with some people. Work people. Anyway, work kept piling up and they ate without me. So, I went out for dinner with another girl who also ended up not going. We were so hungry. We had this funny "Crispy Veggies" thing. It was like bajji, but less oily. Interesting. We ate and we ate. And when we could have no more, we had ice cream. Good stuff.

And I went home. Saw bits and pieces of VH1 CLassic. They kept playing Duran Duran. Interestingly, somebody asked me at work yesterday if there was a group called Duran Duran. I was stunned at his ignorance. And I slept. It was cold. The wind was still blowing. It has been raining for the past week. Clothes never dry. It is starting to get annoying. The Chinese water torture ( or was it Japanese?).

By the way, I finally have someone who comes home and washes clothes and sweeps and mops and here's the best part: she also cooks!! Yay. No very well, but let's not be greedy. She started yesterday.

I need cough syrup. Benedryl, where are you?

Superman is a sad sad movie with many mind-numbing qualities. The first and foremost is Superman himself – who is, throughout the movie, very very pretty. With his skin tight outfit (pure eye-candy) and blank face, he will definitely remind you (those of you who have seen the previous superman movies) of Christopher Reeve. Not as broad as Reeve but of the same brain dead category. (No offense to the paraplegic community, but Reeve’s face seemed frozen even before he got paralysed.) Anyway, Kate Bosworth was definitely not a better Lois Lane than Teri Hatcher. And James Marsden was so unused. Damn it. They killed him off in X3 and made him “the other guy” in this one. Kevin Spacey was the saving grace of this movie. He was brilliant. He had all the great dialogues and looked perfectly evil.

And yeah, Superman has a son.

In other news, the dad was here and friday. And the sis saturday and sunday. She saw superman and was appropriately disdainful. Only, she was not as bothered by the lack of James Marsden as I was. Ate out a lot, enjoyed a light drizzle, drank some obscenely priced "Yemeni" Mocha (coffee @Rs.105!! Decadent), came back home and saw Kundun. Awesome Martin Scorcese. Real story of the current Dalai Lama's childhood. Good stuff. The kid was great.

Hey, I finally have a bed. I bought it on saturday and it really makes a difference! No more mattress on the floor for me!!! Yippee.