From Another Life:
Friday, July 18, 2003
Stillwater, OK

Its Friday people! It is the temporary end to torture - of one kind atleast. I am a fulfilled woman - I have a movie to watch tonight, sexy Italian Shoes to buy at $19.99!!!!! and an office picnic to go to on Sunday where I will spend an entire day of my precious weekend with the same people I spent the week hiding from in my gray cell- uh! cubicle. Damn but I am a happening sort of girl. This weekend I am going to make my lecherous co-worker supremely happy in my three year old bathing suit, but some things just cant be helped. I mean you cant expect an emancipated young woman like me to swelter in 100 degree weather and not take a dip in a large man-made lake with floating dead fish in it and gunk that feels suspiciously like a colicky baby's diaper under my feet now do you? Mein samjhungi mein gange naha aai. See? I am in touch with my roots! And after the first three glasses of sangria, who the hell cares what I am swimming in, right?ciao then amigos!

2 hours later:
Okay, so its a loooong friday. What do you want me to do about it? Huh? Freaking sunday party seems far far away, like eons away, like another galactic timezone - damn. I knew it wouldn't be long before the time warp thing would start catching up with me. Inspiration can't be racist can it? I mean if you are Indian why is it that people assume the only shit you can write bashes the arranged marriage system or talks about some forbidden kamasutra-esque smut? How about like the nice stories huh? Doesn't anybody want to read them anymore? How about you ask a girl what she's all about and f'ng listen when she's talking to you. And pull your head out of your ass so you dont f-ng say "So....India huh. That sure is far aways from here". No kidding morons - somebody got an A in their third grade geography class. Damn.