Notably, I have recently lapsed from putting up rambly posts that are both, something and nothing. Which got me wondering -- is it because *cue: collective speech bubble rising above all JC students* being in jc is so wholly draining, and that I am so absorbed in it, that I have not noticed anything else outside of our small, but insanely numerous school-related trifles?

Also, I think I'm a) getting too serious, and b) take myself too seriously.

Which in itself is quite ironic because I have recently found myself telling people to stop over-intellectualizing certain issues because it's so unneccesary etc. etc.

Right, I'm going to shut up my Pensive Voice now!

Today, I consumed a humongous amount of food. Oh oh remember when I used to compulsively make lists!

What I Ate Today
i. For lunch, at an Indonesian buffet
- Gado-gado: A not-so-vegetable based salad (haha!) of fried tempeh pieces [compressed and fermented soya beans], chunks of ketupat [tightly compressed rice - a rice cake, if you will], sauted cabbage things drenched in rich peanust-coconut gravy!

- 9 large and wonderfully fresh prawns. (Dhaniah! Where were you!)

- Greasy, but zomg: oxtail soup. I suppose some would find it a tad too salty for their palates, but I thought they balanced the blend of spice and mutton incredibly well

- Some noodle and soup thing; see description of soup above. Different soup, prawn stock this time, I think, but just as good.

- Rendang! This being almost always the highlight for me at any foodie session at any Malay family (or in usual cases, far-off distant relatives to whose events we are still invited to). For the uninitiated, this is chunks of beef that have been marinated, then simmered in a large pot of thick, calorie-ridden gravy of coconut and spices. It's really rich and because of the massive amount of time spent stewing over the stove, the meat is so tender it easily parts along the grain into individual STRIPS.

The buffet didn't do it so great though, but good enough for me to have several chunks.

- Tea

ii. at The Coffee Club with Charmaine and Ching Hong (alliteration!)

- A handful of Chachos nacho chips with cheese dip

- A tiny bag of Jelly Tots; I like the purple ones best! Is it strange that I've tasted so many things blackcurrant-flavoured, but not the actual currants itself?

iii. At Cedele/Ya Kun Kaya with Matthew

- Two thick heavy bagels dipped into his spinach chicken soup, which was better than anticipated but was too lazy to buy my own. Cedele has a great way of making dodgy sounding soups taste great! Carrot-coriander soup, for example! Love, love, love. But for the love of all baked goods and wholesome soups, I'd NEVER try the pea soup that they had today. EW!

But then arh, Cedele also cheated my feelings today! Said bagels were stated on the laminated labels to be cranberry bagels, hence, the reason why I bought them -- but they turned out to be plain! Wah lau! So it was like eating a whole loaf of white bread that was compressed into donut shapes.

Somehow, I always turn to Singlish when it comes for whinging petty grievances.

Mel: Which Cedele are you working at?

- a cup of teh susu/milky tea


So all I'm thinking is, how in the world am I going to run my NAPFA 2.4km run tomorrow at my goal of under 15:00min! Poop. What bad timing, I feel like a bloated whale.

In retrospect, I suppose I didn't eat that much - but ALL THOSE CALORIES FROM THE BUFFET. *dies*

Ho hum, pig's bum! I have yet to complete my lit essay that was due Wednesday, nor have I sufficiently prepped for tomorrow's informal debate on globalization. I think it's kinda strange that I have very little interest in the two topics of said due work: globalization and existentialistic musings. Not that I don't think them very important, but my brain seems to dismiss said issues after giving them a 5 second cursory glance.

Why, in the name of all things literary, do writers feel the need to expound, extensively, on the various perspectives of existence? Granted, maybe it might be just my ignorance making itself heard but HULLO, a lot of it sounds like a load of indulgent bovine scatology to me. Brilliant man summed it up in a few syllables: "Cogito ergo sum; I think, therefore I am." No need to write, or make us write lengthy essays about it! Why do you torture me so, essay awaiting to be written and it's 2:18AM!

Recently, I've been pre-occupied with trying to determine in concrete terms how I sound like when I speak*. Various friends would know this, seeing that I've been prodding them for answers at a perhaps, vaguely annoying frequency. Started thinking about it again when Matthew got annoyed by a Caucasian man sitting at the next table who was talking with a really strong accent. Which of course, is really hilarious I thought because you know, Matthew is half-white, (okay granted, pink when he's sunburnt or laughing), and has a not-very-local accent too.

And he's spent all his life, localized in Singapore. Not that he's ugh, one of those obnoxious expat kids that hang around Wheelock's Burger King - but okay la, he is a good specimen of cultural assimilation - YAY YOU! I suppose I will never understand this peeve of his though, as much as he won't understand why I really, and sincerely, wanted a rock from Africa/Cambodia when he went there.

A rock, you say rather incredulously.

Indeed!

At first, it was just a funny idea but if you think about it right, it does make sense. Why should a rock be a stupid/silly/ridiculous souvenier? And I'm not making a logical justification for the sake of it here, but really! A rock, would quite literally have been a PIECE OF AFRICA. Is that not cool, or what? Sure, a made-in-Africa trinket would be a piece of Africa as well, but in my head, it just doesn't seem as authentic. It's a piece of tourism. But a rock, and a random one from the streets at that! That's real, it goes beyond the commerce, beyond society - it's GEOLOGICAL. Like, it's always been there, nobody made it, it's a part of that gigantic continent AND IT'S SITTING ON MY DESK.

And the fact that a rock that probably looks like ordinary junk, sitting on my crappy laminated plywood has actually travelled thousands of kilometers from where human life sprung, is pretty mind-blowing.

Please agree with me, because he doesn't BUT I KNOW I'M RIGHT SO WHAT DO YOU MEAN I'M JUST BEING SILLY.

Good night all!





*Because once more, I am pensive over the fact that I don't sound malay at all, or so they say. Even Dhaniah, Hazri and Ili sound more malay than me!

If I don't sound malay, don't speak malay, don't hang around with many malay people outside my family, am not immersed in the traditional or urban malay mainstream culture, then HULLO the only malay thing about me is my skin colour.

Which is a pretty superficial reason to call myself a malay, I think. But then again, I suppose race as a concept in itself, is pretty superficial.