offer me solutions, offer me alternatives and i decline

I really want to watch 'Independence Day'; the 17-hour playlist continues to serve me well, and today I got really excited for no good reason about REM's 'It's the End of the World As We Know It', which was the theme song for the aforementioned movie. Granted, around the time that I heard the song, I was talking to Walter about how he could move to Iowa when the coasts are destroyed in the coming years, and that he could probably bring a robot with him to help with the farm chores. I'm turning into my father, who would often discuss how we would have to eat squirrels after 'the bastards' (and it was never clear who the bastards were) took over. I get unnecessarily excited about chaos, though, so it's little wonder that I really like movies such as 'Independence Day' and fondly remember drivel such as 'The Day After Tomorrow'.

Anyway, today was grueling; I was in the office by 8:30ish, and didn't get home until 9:30pm. I had PopTarts for breakfast; I was discussing this with Durand (one of two coworkers to come to the party we had before I left for India, and the lucky recipient of Vidya's awkward question 'Please describe the place you hold in Sara's heart'), and we came to the conclusion that the only adults who like poptarts are the ones who grew up in middle America with parents who didn't buy poptarts. People in California seem to be too good for poptarts, what with their desire for foods that are 'fresh' and 'healthy' and 'wholesome'. Bah. The poptarts were probably the best thing I had today, even if they are a slab of sugar covered in frosting and sprinkles, and even if they threw me into a delicious sugar high before I crashed around eleven a.m. Poptarts are even better when chased with a Diet Coke, and the memory of my 'breakfast' sustained me through an awful lunch of weird paneer (cheese) with rice, and an interminable afternoon and evening before coming home to a cold plate of leftover Chinese food.

Despite the paneer and rice, not all is bad; Ranjit makes freshly squeezed lemonade every night, and the house staff leaves flowers in my room every Thursday. Granted, I'm usually allergic to the flowers, but through my swelling eyelids I can still appreciate their delicate beauty. I've been in India for two months now, which means I'm already a third of the way through my deployment. I feel that I'm getting a pretty warped view of what's going on in the States; the only people I talk to regularly are my parents, my brother, Walter, Claudia, Vidya, and Can Sar. If you know any combination of that group, you may begin to understand why my view of the US is warped. I know a lot about round barns, Chevy pickups, robots, upcoming music festivals, Taco Bell, and all the insane stuff that Can talks about, but that's basically the extent of my knowledge. So, if you expect me to come back from India with more sense and sophistication, you're going to be sorely disappointed. It's more likely that I'll come back believing that some AI firm has come up with a way to dress robots in mod clothing and have them rock out while eating baja chalupas.

If you're smart, you'll patent that idea before I get around to filing the paperwork. I'll give you a head start on it--it's time for me to sleep!