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.