Joyride.

It's been a loooong time since I've ventured into the ghost town known as my blog. And the past few times were laughable attempts at a conversation with myself. I've had better luck self-conversing through twitter, but sometimes I suppose I miss the ability to word-vomit and not worry about having to have understandable yet entertaining one-liners. I'm too lazy to be creative at twittering. So voila! I'm back in the old blogosphere, attempting to explain my activities of the past month to my future self re-reading my thoughts.

Since exams have ended, I have been learning more and more about myself. I have gone through exam hell, extreme elation that exams were extinguished, pure self-indulgence, and non-repentance.

Right now I'm still at the pure self-indulgence stage. Exams have been done almost three weeks now, but I'm nowhere near tired of staying at home. There's driving to learn, comics to read, shows to watch, knitting to do, household chores to finish... I'm just not done with my holiday. Which explains why I'm kinda leaning towards passive job-looking. Meaning I don't look for ads, don't actively send out resumes. If I find one, then it's by total chance. If I don't find one, then -hey- all the more fun for me.

My only problem is that the activities I get up to are not doing me any good physically. I'm cooking more nowadays, but my only motivation to cook and bake more is so I can eat! I don't remotely enjoy the act of cooking itself, I just enjoy the fact that I get to eat recipes that I can't find anywhere in Singapore, and that nobody will make for me. Like rice cakes, and the meatier variation I made, and minced meat patties, and peanut butter-nutella brownies (which, I'm sad to report, are down to the last 3 pieces. I may decide to have a farewell, savouring ceremony tomorrow in the presence of milk). Tomorrow for breakfast I'm also planning on making rice griddle cakes, wherein the rice is cooked in milk and honey first, and for the main meals either German potato dumplings called kartoffelkloesse, Bavarian bread dumplings called semmeknoedel, or German egg noodles called spaetzle. What a mouthful. I hope they taste great. But that's the thing. I cook so I can indulge. T_T I've created a monster!

One thing I'm sure of: this phase will eventually pass. Just like how the K-Pop cloud is actually leaving me a little behind, and romance novels have lost their glitter, and swimming has become so troublesome (not pleased to report that I completely stopped swimming since the time I got sick THREE months ago. Completely lost my momentum, and it's a lonely affair anyway).

Random weird fact: in my head I'm dictating my thoughts to my fingertips in a pseudo British accent. Can't say whether it sound believable or not, because it all comes out garbled the soonest I open my mouth to try speak the words. So for now I'm content to let it simmer inside my skull. Bubble bubble bubble.

dot . dot . dot .

Went to the zoo last friday with B.L.U.E. Marx! (Consisting of Pat, Aishah, Mel and me. Duh! We're like, only the most famous people in the solar system!) Superduperbananalicious fun. I will type out the "Friends-of-BLUE-Marx" post soon! Just... let me finish procrastinating?

And then on Sunday I had a picnic at East Coast with my lovelies Syaz and Diana! We had packed Nasi Sambal Goreng which was omgosh-so-good brought by Syaz, some of the meaty rice cakes, and some brownies. And of course, Sprite. Had fun despite (or maybe because) of the little drizzle that persisted our last half-an-hour there.

Then I had to zoom-zoom off early (sorry guys) to a family gathering at Sakunthala, 20-odd people altogether including my grandma who seldom goes out to eat with us. If you'll look at the tagged photos of me on Facebook, you'll see several unglam pictures of me eating and sulking and whatnot. I'm so over being embarassed by them. I'm just an unglam person, period. I've made my peace with it. Though I have to say the Khulfi or North Indian ice cream that I was wolfing down unglamorously, was laced with pure silver which, while not contributing to the taste at all, made me feel like I was eating MAGIC! Sorry, my exaggerating mode got accidentally switched on. It tasted of nothingness, the ice-cream was okay, but at least it looked good.

Now I shall end my word vomit. I think I went too overkill on the amount of parenthesis and extra, unnecessary descriptions. Oh well. It's the little British voice in my head that keeps egging me on. It actually sounds a little like an old English grandma. Or a Cockney tranny. I shall add this to my old Texan grandma repertoire of accents. Cool. American and Continental. I shall next learn how to think in the Hong Kong tai tai voice! ... Shh... I could literally hear myself losing that British voice. Now I'm thinking Singaporean again. Makes a noticeable difference in the way I type, doesn't it?

Better end now before it comes back, annoying old bat. Ohmygosh, I feel it creeping on me!...

fina.