Sweet

I dreamt that I was Idris Elba. The complete and utter self-assurance of just being in "my" own skin was amazing. I want to be like that in real life but the feeling is fading too quickly.

Time flying

Enfant Terrible was registering us for a race the other day and needed my personal details. He entered my IC number on the eletronic form, then paused.

"How old are you this year?" he said. 

Quick mental arithmetic done, I said, "36. Why?"

"I'm wondering if I'm supposed to enter you in the women's open or women's veteran category."

"Well, I think they take the age you're at as of 31 December in the last year."

"OK, women's open then."

"But think of how good my chances of podiuming will be if I'm in women's veteran!!"

"... next year lah."

It's gonna be great. The best!

Nostalgia: Part ??

Triggered by a breakfast radio broadcast, I'm currently longing for the 1990s so bad it actually aches. Life was simpler back then: I didn't have deadlines to meet, bills to pay, or a child to care for.

On the other hand, my hours are no longer bound to a school bell, I can afford pretty much what I want (or need; same difference), and I have a lovely family. 

No harm having a 1990s-themed party though. Forget the hippies, it's time for Gen X!

Workaround: Part X

I have the free version of a Blogger app. I can draft posts in it but will have to pay like RM20 for the full version in which publishing is enabled. RM20 isn't much (a mains at a mid-range eatery; a starter/appetizer at a high-end eatery) but then I'm Malaysian and therefore funny about money like that.

(AKA penny-wise, pound-foolish.)

Flex

My writing muscles have become flaccid from disuse!

Old age things

I'm in my mid-30s now (?!) and that means I have to give some thought to things I would otherwise not have thought about 10 years ago.

Specifically: what I have for breakfast. Unlike the years in which I spent slogging at my master's degree,* I can't just toss back a coffee and a breakfast bar and call it good till lunch because my metabolism won't let me anymore.

(It's weird because aren't you supposed to slow down as you age? Yet here I am suffering hunger pangs and on the verge of blacking out/brain death 1 hour after having breakfast.)

I've tried all the breads and spreads, and whatever grain the flour is made from, how many types of seeds they strew into the dough, or whether it's coconut or peanut spread or even lovely ol' butter, it's not enough. Adding protein (eggs) only goes so far (about 30 minutes more). For a privileged suburbanite like me, it's just sad.

You know what works though? Oatmeal. Instant is okay, but now I really enjoy overnight quick-cooking oats. Overnight oats are amazing because no one wants to have a hot breakfast in El Niño weather, no? So you stir water (or milk, if you're not lactose intolerant like me) into some oats the night before and then add the trimmings the next day (dried/fresh fruit, honey, brown sugar [not white because it causes breakouts**], milk powder, bacon). It looks like baby food but it doesn't stick to the pot but it sticks to your ribs, holding me till lunch, and I'm happy with that.

*Another sign of aging is thinking of things you did 10 years ago.

**Your mileage may vary.

Ais krim potong Sin Wah: A review

Air krim potong is currently my favorite dessert. I'd only had a casual interest in it until I went to Kota Kinabalu, Sabah, this year. Then, I fell head over heels for the stuff.

(It used to be I couldn't get enough of mochi donuts from Mr. Donuts, but that's how things change.)

Literally translated, ais krim potong is sliced ice cream, but of course there's more to it than that. First, it's made with coconut milk instead of milk and cream; second, you don't need an ice cream maker. Also, ais krim potong bars (?) are traditionally skewered, though in the interests of public safety, the skewers of yore have been replaced with non-pointy rods.

For my sake, here is a recipe for red bean ais krim potong (my favorite flavor is cempedak though).

Anyway, no kiosk on Gaya Street, KK, was spared a look-in. More often than not, I'd come away with an ais krim potong (RM2.10-2.60, depending on where you went), and it was WORTH IT.

I'm trying to be consistent back in Kuala Lumpur, but you're likelier to find Paddle Pops than ais krim potong here.

Nevertheless, 99 Speedmart sells single ais krim potong as opposed to the boxes of 6 or 10 you find at Tesco.

Sadly, the brand they carry (Sin Wah, durian flavor, 95 sen) isn't worth the effort. It had a watery texture, more like a frozen slushy (or ais kacang?) than ice cream, and tasted sad and thin and not the slightest bit creamy.

Have I told you that my goal now when traveling to a new place is to eat all the sweets?

Extenuating circumstances

Enfant Terrible and I haven't gone running since last Thursday because of the haze. This year's might be the worst I've ever seen since 1996. I was still in secondary school then, and I remember how dim and smoky the field looked from my classroom.

So, we've been watching The Strain and Fear of the Walking Dead. What I've seen so far of FotWD is good. It's intense but less nerve-shredding than The Walking Dead, if that makes sense.

As I've read The Strain trilogy (the quality of which sadly declined from book 2 onwards), I have mixed feelings about the TV series. Sometimes it feels like the only things they kept from the books are the character names. Everyone, including The Master, looks different from how I imagined them (doesn't that always happen), and don't get me started on the new characters.

On the other hand, the series should be judged on its own merits because you don't compare apples to oranges. So, as a TV series, it's quite good, though some of the medical talk, which was probably expositioned for the benefit of a layman audience, did make me twitch.

Anyway, watching monster apocalypse productions during this weather is probably not the best idea. In both FotWD and The Strain, the powers-that-be are either hiding information from the public, or are somehow responsible for the events and are hiding information from the public.

If you've read The Strain trilogy, it's not difficult to imagine that our current (real-life) weather conditions are a literal smokescreen for something more ominous.

Maybe there's some serious terraforming shit happening at ground level. Maybe law enforcement outposts are quietly being put into place under the cover of smog for nefarious purposes. MAYBE the vampires ARE involved in this and are enjoying free rein right now in the diminished sunlight (we know that the older the bloodsucker, the more tolerant it is of sunlight... or is it the other way round?).

Maybe I have cabin fever.

Or MAYBE that is what they want me to think.

Trying to compute

I've been holiday-sick since I got back from Kota Kinabalu. It's like being homesick, but you yearn for the holiday place instead of home. Of course, I got a little homesick when I was in Europe, so you can't really win that game.

I've also been thinking of getting another laptop. The idea came about when ET and I were discussing quite seriously the idea of being traveling freelancers. From what I've read, it seems to be mainly a white people thing at the moment.

(When I was in school, I imagined I would be a vagabond, living in a van and washing up at petrol stations and cooking over a camp stove. All my belongings would fit into a rucksack. I have a rucksack. I have a camp stove. I have a... sedan. The idea still intrigues me.)

All I really need to work is a computer, electricity, and an internet connection (doesn't almost everyone?), and it's possible for ET to conduct music lessons over Skype, though that isn't really a thing in Malaysia yet. Maybe we can make it a thing elsewhere.

The thing is, the working holiday I took in KK made me realize that my current laptop is uncomfortably heavy (almost 2 kg, maybe more because it's got so many files stored on it, har har) and too big to just shove into any old laptop sleeve. It also has a shit battery, so it's on DC power all the time.

I don't actually need another laptop, or so I thought, but my current one switched off on its own a few days ago. I lost an entire manuscript! And yet, right now, I wonder if it had overheated and whether an overhaul might refresh things somewhat. There's nothing particularly wrong with it, it's just old. (One day someone will say that of me too, I think.)

A new laptop would be nice though. It would be smaller, lighter, and more portable. It would run faster, until it doesn't. And then I'll get another one. And so on. We'll see.

Appetite for weddings

Practically every vendor (every person, even) we spoke to before the wedding was 100% certain Enfant Terrible and I wouldn't be able to eat on the day.

My fifth cousin said he barely ate anything on his night because he was walking around so much but made up for it by practically inhaling the cake when he got home after.

Our caker told me that the couple never gets to eat because they have to visit all the tables.

The seamstress said I wouldn't have to worry about eating too much on the night and busting out of my dress because because no one who gets married actually eats on their night.

NO ONE mentioned the nerves though, except our venue coordinators, who laughed at my worried face 3 days before the wedding and assured me they had my back. (This is the most unbelievably important thing you can tell someone who's about to get married and I urge you to say it if you can back it up.)

Anyway, nerves. We drifted through the day in a haze of anxiety and couldn't taste anything we had at breakfast and lunch. At dinner, I made it through half my appetizer (2 bites of salad and 2 pieces of pandan chicken) before feeling I'd puke if I ate any more. It was a shame because the Burmese laksa was fantastic (also 2 bites), as was everything else. But I gave up and just sipped my liquids (water, wine, lemongrass tea) after that. I also had a bite of cake after the cake cutting when ET fed each other the obligatory slices, and that was pretty much it for me that night.

Also, muruku crackers during the cocktail hour when I could pause from talking to guests.

ET fretted about the DJ throughout and only relaxed after he gave his speech (even the photographer said he looked stressed). He actually ate after all the guests had left. The food had gone cold by then but it didn't matter.

Me, I think I got my appetite back on Tuesday. We'd packed our extras (woohoo!) so at least I got to enjoy that, albeit belatedly. We're also trying to make the cake last as long as we can, but we're fighting over who will get the last bite of chocolate, so this might not end well.

Your wedding nerves will probably be different (I am a terribly anxious person as a rule), but it will be a robot couple that doesn't feel even the slightest flutter of butterfly wings on their day.

Refreshing

Due to my nomadic circumstances,* I spent the past 2 days without my iPad. The first 24 hours were spent glued to my phone, refreshing my mobile socmed** apps and cursing the small screen. After that, I read a magazine and didn't miss my iPad anymore.

Today, I retrieved it, but the anticipated heroin rush of relief didn't materialize.

I think I'm going to start removing some of my feeds.

*I left it at home when I went to the apartment.
**Social media, of course.

Personal hygiene update: Part 2

Personally, "no poo" sounds ridiculous. Just say you're not using shampoo already! Honestly, saying you're "no poo" implies you have digestion problems*, and it too cutesy by half.

Anyway, as the price of my favorite "natural" shampoo has gone up AGAIN, I decided to go back to baking soda shampoo. One small container  of baking soda is enough to make a few batches of  shampoo hair wash, and costs about 7% of the price of "proper" shampoo.

I guess part of the fun is working out the baking soda to water ratio that works best for you. I thought I could get away with using way less than the half tablespoon I used previously, but 1.5 teaspoons is too little. And so on.

*If you have digestive problems, you should eat fewer of those lovely little biscuits, geddit?!

Personal hygiene update: Part 1

I don't care for the term "crunchy", which Google says means "politically and environmentally liberal" (whatever THAT is supposed to mean), but is usually used when referring to any alternative approach or thing involving personal hygiene.

Maybe it's because my recent reading experience has been saturated with crunchy blogger this and crunchy mama that. Seriously, there are hundreds of those, if not thousands, all professing to lead the crunchy life. Which is actually well and good as long as you don't brag about it. I guess coming across all of them at one go overwhelmed me.

Anyway, I've been using the DIY deodorant I described previously, and I actually managed to get Enfant Terrible to try it too! (He's actually game for anything as long as it's not eggy.) It has been demonstrated in our sample size of 2 that the deodorant is 100% effective.

One limitation to this study is the size of the tubes used, which are actually lip balm tubes. I haven't found suppliers nearer to Malaysia who stock deo tubes, and shipping them from the US would cost more than the tubes themselves. Unless I buy more tubes, but then I'd be spending close to RM400 on plastic?!

The second limitation is that the powder portion of the formulation renders the mini deo stick slightly crumbly, so it doesn't glide on smoothly. Come to think of it, this is true of Nivea stick deodorant, but nevermind. ET manages to break off bits when he applies it, and just smoothes it in before dressing.

A third possible limitation is that people who don't like the smell of coconut might dislike it, which makes them monsters in my book. (There are also people who say sandalwood and coconut are "Indian" smells. Ya rly.)

Nevertheless, this deodorant is highly effective and efficacious (works when you apply it after sweating as well), is cost-effective to produce, and has its own pleasant smell.

*A portion of this work was styled as a scientific research manuscript. Because day job bleeds into nightmares sometimes.

Moment of self-aggrandization

At the risk of jinxing things, I actually quite like planning shit.

I like contacting people (though most times I actually loathe talking to people...) and asking them to come to a party. I like contacting vendors, getting quotes, and finding out how they run their shit and what they can do for me. I like thinking of details like the pattern on the dress and the complementing footwear. I even like entering the numbers into the spreadsheet so I know how deep a financial hole we're digging.

I guess I like assembling things, and a wedding is pretty much one of the biggest things you could ever put together.

So yeah. Colonel Fury, drop me a line the next time you're in town. I could give you a hand.

Making Emily Post proud

Mum received a wedding invite from her colleague yesterday to the colleague's child's wedding. The envelope was small (tiny) and flimsy, possibly made of paper under 60 gsm. The address lines were pre-printed and narrow. The couple had stamped their name on the top third of the front using what looked like a standard issue rubber stamp font.

The invite it held (I held it up against the light, ok) was just as basic. It would have melted in the rain. I'd had stared at the envelope for a few seconds, wearing a half-sneer before I realized what I was doing.

And for all that, they had to use an 80 sen stamp because of the envelope's non-standard size. The same postage I'd used, only my invites had been in "proper" envelopes on which addresses had been written freehand. I'd spent about 3 weeks getting my design to print properly on my 200 gsm card stock using a proper printer and not the xerox machine at the nearby stationery shop, where, no doubt using the on-site paper cutter, they had cut their B6-size invites from a larger sheet.

SO WHAT.

Both invitations are for a happy occasion that people will show up for,* eat till they're comatose, drink till they're unruly (maybe), cake till they're ill, catch up with each other and bitch about the idiots at the other table, and then leave, hopefully commenting about how happy and well-matched the couple looked.

Maybe this couple decided to apportion more of their budget for food and drink (always a good idea). Most invitations are discarded the instant an event is over anyway, so all the cutting and folding and gluing I see going into a wedding invite suite (I think that's what they're called) are pretty much a waste of time and resources.

BUT.

If it makes you happy, why the hell not? It's your wedding. If some snooty fucker thinks your invites aren't "weddingy" enough, or overdone, fuck them. Seat them in the hottest area of the tent or beside the toilets. If they even show up.

For the record, I will use Whatsapp to announce my next wedding.**

*For fuck's sake, honor the fucking RSVP date. If you can't find it, just respond as soon as you receive it. It's only polite.
**Maybe for my anniversary.

Red carpet Z-lister

A photographer showed up at yoga class yesterday. She had been assigned to take pictures of activities to commemorate the club's 125th anniversary. She was loaded with camera gear and the accompanying saddlebags. She walked all her sneakers over the floor!!!

(I just realized this is what it must be like for anime characters when an interloper disrespects the dōjō by treading on the tatami/wood floor with their dress shoes. For a while, I did want to flip her out of the room.)

Sadly for her, attendance was kind of poor (about 7 students in a hall that can accommodate about 20). But yours truly* suggested that the beginner and intermediate students do the warm-up sun salutations together so that she'd have a decent-sized group in her shots, and everyone agreed!

Two guys weren't interested in having their mugshots in the club magazine though. So, one did his sun salutations away from the photographer, and the other... left the room after asking the photographer to  inform him when she'd finished.

Our instructor said, "Ignore the camera." Easy to say when you're not in the front row and facing a flash that's going off every minute. No wonder people get angry with the paparazzi.

*It's not as if I ordered her to photograph only my good side.

Aging gracefully

A sure sign of maturity is when you're just quietly unpleasant during PMS week, and not a raging scream monster.

Inadvertent deodoration

Guys, I did a salt and honey scrub yesterday morning. It still feels subversive taking kitchen ingredients into the bathroom, even though I've been using grapeseed oil for about 2 (?) years now.

Anyway, it's a 1:1 combination of salt and honey, and you can add a bit of oil* to make it more spreadable. Oil makes the floor slippery though. The salt can be coarse or fine, sea or table, and the honey can be raw, organic, organic and raw, or pasteurized.

I doubt most people care about these details though. I think it's entirely up to you if you're fine with having premium ingredients wash down the drain instead of, I don't know, eating them.** But you know, you're washing it off pretty quickly, so it doesn't make sense (to me anyway) to use the fancy stuff.

For me, a finer salt + runnier honey = nicer scrub.

Besides the exfoliation, the scrub actually left a faint honey scent after being washed off! Other than that, the major, unexpected, effect appears to be this: complete absence of sweaty smells for about 24 hours on a warm and humid day.

Lesson: Salt-honey scrubs dull your sense of smell. Probably. Or it has something to do with the anti-bacterial activity of honey. Maybe both!

*You probably won't need to moisturize if you do this.
**Salt and honey is actually a good marinade/basting solution for roasts and whatnot. But you knew that.

No shampoo: Day 3 and 4 (belated)

Day 3: Three days into just rinsing sweaty hair and scalp with cold water and I still look like a sane human being. I've only told the internet as yet, because Enfant Terrible will look askance at me if I did, I think. Or maybe not, as he has his own eccentricities. It's been almost a week since my last shampoo though, so I should probably suds up soon.

Day 4: I have shampooed my hair! It smells of my shampoo (Tropical Rain by Indochine Natural, of course). I didn't oil it. It doesn't feel different compared to Days 1-3. HOWEVER, we must remember that when I started this no-shampoo lark, I had already gone 2 or 3 days without washing my hair. I think that means plain water makes that much of a difference.

RESET THE CLOCK.

All creatures great and small

As you may not have known, I signed up for an online course. It's an entry-level type of thing to get my feet wet. I'm not a good independent learner. Left to seek study resources on my own, I'd likely wind up browsing sites entirely unrelated to the course at hand. AND I'd tell myself that following links is a form of education, i.e., I'd learn something new (but it'd be unfocused and unrelated, duh).

Anyway, the course involves a series of video lectures accompanied by interactive transcripts (you can scroll to specific time points by clicking on the corresponding line in the transcript). The topic is microbiology. I feel a kinship of sorts with microbes, seeing as how we're both small and kind of fiddly at times.

... Moving on.

There are 4 modules to the course, and if I'm brutally honest, Module 1 is a snooze because I learnt the stuff as an undergrad. However, the refresher is good. There are 1-question multiple choice (whee!) pop quizzes after each lecture, and there will be an assessment after you've watched all the videos in the module.

The fun bit is that you receive badges every time you answer a quiz or forum question. I dropped out of the Girl Guides in primary school, so this is a nice activity.