Daily update

You may all be happy to learn that I have a computer that I can use for a week.
I was pleased to learn that President Ahmadinejad is visiting India. If you think that that is a hard name to pronounce, try spelling it. The U.S. of A had a priceless opinion on this, of course. Apparently, it is our duty to tell Prez Ahmad that Iran must end its uranium enrichment programme. I'm only asking out of curiousity here, why exactly are we such close chums with Bush? Nuclear energy is, and I'm sure George Bush knows this as well as we all do, an excellent source of power. Is that against the law too, in a country where hydroelectricity is a mere stone's throw from the realm of the impossible?
With George Bush as your closest ally, keep your friends close, your enemies closer and Bush closest of all. Ahmedinejad is making a two day stopover in Delhi, which, in effect, leaves all of us with time for a charming tea time chat. So what are we expected to say, really? Good to see you Ahmedinejad, I hope your like your cake. I also hope that your uranium enrichment programme will come to an end as soon as possible.
Everytime America assured Pakistan that they were good friends, a suicide bomber would blow himself up in a market place somewhere. This reached a point when the foreign ministry of Pakistan was forced to tell Bush to lay off, or else. Musharaff deserves a few extra votes for that one.
Chelsea Clinton, it was reported in the comic section of the news yesterday, is apparently very popular at gay bars. She went on a gay pub crawl (vote for mommy, she's just like one of you!) and was a big hit, both for what she said and her appearance. How did Chelsea manage to pull that one off? How does a girl manage to look attractive to men who like gay bars so much? Or maybe it was the women she hit it off with. She is an attractive girl. If you ask me, she would be a good deal nicer than her mother as a Presidential candidate. She's a lot like her father, who is a very charming man, ask Monica if you don't believe me.
I am rather in the mood to go for a movie. Trusted sources tell me that the afternoon is a good time to do this. I also have to scrape every lining of my pockets to be able to bring my guitar back home, I miss it sorely.
Aditya is going back home tonight. I can't believe that I will have to delete his number from my mobile. No more blue tea at Infinitea (well, it's green, actually, bit of a disappointment, that!), no more aimless walks on Cunningham Road at half past ten in the night. And worst of all, no more long conversations about what a terrible thing love is.
There is also a jazz show next week that I'm rather keen on. The only hitch is that there might be lurkers, um, lurking in the back rows, waiting to scare the heeby jeebies out of me. Oh dear.
I will also be nineteen this Sunday, on the fourth of May. I've made it through the eighteenth year of my life with relatively few cuts and bruises.