dear diary

This is the third time I’ve tried writing here. I need to write about:
(1) my flat tire and how I can change one (in theory anyway)
(2) working, and how if I have to crunch some numbers from this database we maintain and analyze results A, B and C, I will inevitably use a million worksheets, several obscure excel functions no one knows about, thoroughly comment and record all procedures, make process maps, make a new color coded file and update it, and then automate all the bottlenecks till I have one smooth operation which can be updated in five minutes the next time either A, B or C are required. I do this every single time, justifying the initial time investment because of all the time I’d save later. But really, do I really need to be so efficient all the time? I’ve come up with this word “technolge” (the verb form of technology. My question is: “to technolge or not to technolge?”. Next time, I’ll just waste time blogging and orkut-ing, catch up on my emails, do the job in some old fashioned inefficient manner that abuses the beauty of excel, and just give the thing in. just not be so personally invested in everything.
(3) finally got an email from “best” friend M. (saying the word best friend makes me feel like I’m in class 2). We used to be alike; think being mistaken for sisters, finishing the others sentences, having exactly the same opinion, the works. Post ivy league and NY life, she’s become this total absolute, self involved americanized BURGER (I hate that word), who wants to do nothing other than live off daddy’s money and party/shop in NY, with absolutely no motivation to come back home and try to make the difference she can with her resources and education. Its people like her, my best friend, who selfishly chose to waste important potential by living in a world only because it has better clubs. She could use her stupid architectural degree and help design the stupid millions of hideously made town houses and apartment blocks that are clearly made by mazdoors who’ve only lived in palm tree jhompri’s their whole lives. She could do the fund raisers she’s so good at, or just stay in NY and paint and because famous like she would if she only wanted to, and just bring up Pakistan’s name in some context other than bombs and death. But no, her only mission in life is to get married because she’s about to be put “on the shelf” at 24. She thinks I’m gay for not wanting to settle into a relationship with the first rich fuck who proposes. Did I mention a self involved american burger anywhere?
(4) hung out with good old N, J and T. asked J if he has any sisters (ARGH.. WHAT is WRONG with me – his sisters death thingie is tomorrow). Sat for three hours over one cup of hot chocolate as I went on my soap box about how we’re all children of a fucked up education system that gears us to go abroad, leaving us with the mentality of clerks, forever trapped in the paradox of yearning for white skin and good english speaking skills because of one massive ass colonial hangover. J makes totally stupid naïve statements like we’re a nation of law less people because “we have self esteem issues because we were downtrodden from post mughlai era” and I feel like smacking him because that’s some U of W development econ professor talking who’s clearly never stepped foot in the third world. We also talked about our exes, and nearly depressed ourselves into a coma, till T came and shrieked us out of melancholy. The Caffeine sofa’s are really comfortable, if a little incondusive to passionate debate :).

Have a training session on a Saturday :(, till 8 pm. They’ve tried to make it sound fun and funky, but that’s still a Saturday, and its still a five hour training session. Can I mention Saturday again?
And yes this is self involved, but hey, this thing is supposed to be a diary substitute right?