Salivation Army

At some point in the night, my brain gets saturated with all the homework I can do for the evening and my eyes, previously fixed upon my (lovely) textbooks and notes, move on to more exciting things while my mind wanders. There's only one place my mind wanders to at this time of night, between 2 to 3 am: The Singapura Daily Makan Photo food blog. This is when the best of Singapore's obsession of food and powerful digital SLRs come together to make magic.

But I almost always regret clicking the link to the blog because it always fills me (momentarily) with a deep despair at anything I had for dinner, lunch and breakfast that very day, and for a second I despise everything I am about to cook myself for two following weeks. But then the self-pity doesn't last very long because I become to distracted by all the lovely pictures on the blog. :D

When I go back I'm going to shamelessly keep a food diary just so when I get back to London I can prove to myself that good food is not an illusion.

33 days more to go.

Will Stop Whingeing For Five Minutes

A comment Mark, my colleague at the shop made me think about the things I tell people and the things I choose not to share lately. More specifically, he thinks I complain a lot, and upon reflection, I'm afraid I have to agree with him. It's largely been a mechanism for mutual identification, and quite a useful one at that, but it will have to stop now. I mean, it's easy to see what's wrong with something, but so much harder to actually fix it. So I'm going to start making an effort to say positive things from now on. And only complain if I can do it in a remotely entertaining way.

This has nothing to do with me being vegetarian this month (I know, vegetarians sometimes annoy me too--the preachy bastards). It's a bet that Charmaine and I have between ourselves, and basically the goal is to see if vegetarianism is actually viable. I know what people think: of course it's viable--plenty of people are vegetarian. I realise that, but what I didn't realise was how many people can live comfortably with terrible tasting food. Bad food makes me (and charm) depressed. Utterly defeated and down in the dumps. And so we're going to try and make everything as wonderful as possible. Without meat, without fish.

We've survived a little over a week now, and quite successfully. The rules are that we will not buy any meat groceries and in the event that we do go out to eat we must always consider the vegetarian option. For the sake of not being total pains in the ass however, we have decided that if it's just not viable not to eat meat, a concession may be made, provided that the meal is made up in December. It's easier when it's almost like a game, although some days (like today for lunch, when I had a great urge to have butter chicken--i resisted) it feels like I am fooling myself. Which I kind of am, if you think about it.

I have little else to say if I leave out all the whingeing that i've been wanting to do, about the funny (weird) new colleague that refuses to clean the place, about annoying people in school (where do I start), etc etc. But in the grand scheme of things, it's probably best to let go of all this negativity. After all the new (vegetarian) me might fall to pieces from bad karma.

Pretty Pair Maryjanes Please

Reading week finally, and I feel like I can breathe again. Although I know this is but an illusion because it's not called reading week for no reason. Day 1: figuring out Hegel and his obscure meanings. Not too bad a start, actually, just need to sit down and concentrate. There are just so much readings on this nebulous thinker. And the course structure is such that it probably wouldn't hurt to just give him a miss. But what I've read so far (very little) does intrigue me and so I will keep on keeping on.

The weather has taken a turn for the worse, as if it knew it was November and suddenly everything is cold. The biting cold makes everything a little more miserable than it really is. (is this grammatical?) but things have been steady, and nothing terrible has happened, but the past few weeks have been completely abject and upsetting, just by the lack of sunlight.

In fact, things have been quite good, because i've been getting brainwaves and sudden bouts of creativity and have started playing with the idea of painting my Diana camera again. And also considering binding my own notebooks... it's actually easier than it seems and can be done with little cost in the long run. Really worth considering there. I've added the link to this awesome handbound journal-making duo five and a half who are based in Brooklyn. I've seen some of their work, and i think the notebooks are quite awesome, just that i'm not too fond of the binding style they've used. in any case, the blog is lovely and exciting too. There's a real sense that something is being built: a cottage industry, or maybe slowly, an empire.

This is something that interests me a lot, the idea of creating something, building it, growing it. Which is why I suspect I wouldn't be able to stay long in the legal profession even though I know I definitely want to be a lawyer after I graduate.

Unfortunately it's only at night that I get these brainwaves and the motivation to create wanes after a good night's sleep. In the day more rational thoughts take over, like a shortening deadline and such and such, and then the day is inundated with mundane things commands like eat! buytoothpaste! toiletpaper! dishes! Ugh. daytime and its unromantic emergencies.

I wish a break like READING WEEK weren't so loaded with meaning and expectation like it is now. I can't think of anything that would make me feel better besides a pair of new shoes and/or a new dress, but that will have to wait until I finish reading the handouts. BAH. I would really like a day out to go shooting as well but this too shall have to wait in the wings while I reassume my role as a proper law student.

After all, we can't all be on holiday.

An Extraordinary Sight

A late morning on Charing Cross Road, on my way back from the British Museum. I am walking towards the iconic shop selling musical instruments, walking past the iconic not-subtly-named porn shop Lovejoys, walking past in-road to Soho, Old Compton Road. I witness a flock of flying pigeons passing overhead and I stop to watch. The pigeons, after landing on the other side of Charing Cross road, linger for a few seconds on their new roost, then head back in a big loud cloud of fluttering feathers.

The pigeons fly to and fro for no obvious reasons a few more times, until finally after more than ten times of crossing the road by simultaneous and seemingly spontaneous flight they settle down on the roofs of my side of the road, where they first started. I think immediately it must be a sign. But I might be wrong: no one else is stopping.

Not News, but oh so Beautiful

Looks from the Oscar de la Renta Spring/Summer 2010 show. I don't think it's difficult to see why since Valentino retired, he's my favourite designer for stunning dresses.





Brilliant.

Photos from The Book Club

Mentioned a while back about the gig I attended at this new venue The Book Club, where Tokyo band Asakusa Jinta played. They are a six-piece Japanese rock-meets-traditional band doing their tour in the UK and they stopped by the shop to perform one afternoon. Coworker Mark and I were free the following evening after our shift so we went to see them play at a real gig.

He had an awesome and bizarre looking guitar.

This man is the epitome of cool. He had an afro that made his head look twice as big as it really is.

And he wore havaianas to the gig. RESPEK.

For the encore this guy with the mohawk taught us a dance involving the patting of elbows.

Saxophonist and girl of Mark's dreams. Had a super squeaky kawaii voice.

You will recall that I said there were six people playing, including a drummer at the back and one very cool front man of whom none of the photos turned out, unfortunately. He wore a hat with round badges pinned to the brim, a leather jacket embroidered with the words ASAKUSA JINTA and underneath, the most obiang but awesome shirt i ever seen:

which is leading me to suspect that the most direct way to be cool anywhere in this world is quite possibly to be a Japanese rockstar. It is the shortest distance between the points tacky and wonderful.

The Inspector Is Calling

Then the sudden realisation dawned: Nothing planned on Thursday evening!

True -- there was a property tutorial to take care of, and it would be good to show up some people in her class... especially that one particular annoying guy who obviously thinks he's smarter than anyone else.

But then The Inspector Calls! And so conveniently located and timed at Aldwych. And tickets so inexpensive, at 12 pound fifty. And a limited 8-week run! 0_0

Besides, this week has not been fantastic anyway with regard to homework and tutorials.

And so temptation won.