trans(it)

visited my brother and his family during the easter weekend, it's a different view from last year's with the added member of the family.  the tiny tyke still cries at random and wants his freedom, none of these car seats bollocks.  the boys are growing up fast, in a swiftier technological conventions.

the transformation of king's cross has been a revelation, not been there for like months.  it's as pleasing to the eye as st. pancras next door.  i've always been in a rush, staring at the train times, gate numbers and the likes, that there's no time to absorb the aesthetics of  the station.  waterloo's refurbishment is still in progress.  can't wait to infiltrate the rejuvenated milieu, wander around the shops after a hard day's study at the nearby college or alighting after visiting a friend in surrey.

speaking of friends and family, i've been exposed to a few lifestyles recently.  a few individuals comes to mind. there's a couple who have toured europe and north america (perhaps asia?)  never worrying about a child's incessant crying in their plane compartment.  talked to a couple with two kids. they're balancing child care with bullying at school and planning kiddies parties.  then there's my friend who has decluttered a lot by moving to a bigger house, throwing away all her magazines and dvd's (?), cut her digital satellite, also planning her special zoo-themed son's birthday party.  i wish i could be as excited with the advent of a new dishwasher. there's  also this nice, suave colleague who has almost circumnavigated the world and the last time i managed to take a peek, taking pictures of his stroll in leicester square during his day off.  i guess seeing other countries is the best.  there's so much we can learn from observing other cultures. it's expensive, as my friend in NC says, "there's no budget."  she's also in the mommy trail, in america's deep south.  where's the lottery money? for those of us who were not born with silver spoons, the finest cutleries and are not pop stars or heirs to ceremonial thrones?

 leaving that thought, i'm nursing a cold at present. i should be in bed.  but i have to collect my strips at the chemist. i'll take a walk, perhaps that would bring my sugar down after i gorge half a cupcake.

better sigh

i want to type really quick for this blog. it's quite a difficult task really.  all i want to do is laxuriate in the world unto itself,  a relaxed, friendly, cool place where inappropriate comparisons and competitions are non-existent.  i just mostly want some energy.  i want to tidy up every nook and cranny, paint a wall, hoover and read more.

is it cold today?

 (photo courtesy of mr. taburada)

jan's egg tartlets reminded me of a friend of a friend, the one with the arrogance and bravado contained in a tiny package.  her words and behavior stung in '06 and they continue to manifest over the years every time i see her or her name is mentioned in random conversations.  then there's ryan's former colleague (they had a photo taken together as recently as a little bit more than 18 months ago), whose bitchiness is a story unto itself.  it's better for the soul to just sprinkle their goodness with frozen shoulders or avoid their presence at all costs.  if not possible, acknowledge their voices only when it's absolutely necessary.

back to jan's tartlets, they're great.  the lady is quite skillful with the whisk (or did she use one? i have no idea about baking).  i would have photographed them but i broke one into two as soon as i got home and ruined the pair's essence.  it would be neat to learn how to make cupcakes.  type2 diabetes runs in my blood but it's the earnest consumption of rice and instant noodles that would impair my insulin production.

anyway, it's good friday today.  we should all be kind.  is kindness becoming rare these days?  hopefully not.

double carbs

any realisations in the first few months of the year all boil down to enlightenment. but just like one's basher on twitter, i've learned to click block and ignore. i've regained a little bit of my strength, not a lot, although enough for a cat fight and i'm not fond of cats.

my favourite people remain congenial. they seldom text. i'm the one that utilises the message machine. i don't mind these days. it's still spring, almost summer, brightens up the mood.

lacuna

it's a halt in communication. but no sweat, i will chill. i asked to meet a friend, in a text, a week ago. maybe i'm not good company for high street coffee, in my case, sugar free drinks.

but there's virginia woolf, i have books to soothe my concerns, such a dork. at least, the sickness is almost gone. there are some remnants left but it's not as debilitating. i still experience tiredness when i miss my afternoon siesta or venture a few meters from point A to point B.

nonetheless, yeah, the domestic arena is highly-competitive. as if you know, you're really nobody unless somebody loves you, which is a lot of crap. being in a union is hard work, it's not merely for display. you have to synchronise your thoughts together and have in-depth discussions on issues that befall mankind.

that said, i utterly salute my single friends. they're there during times of need. if only they live next door or at least nearby, i could inhale and exhale more comfortably. but i'm hoping to regain more bearings.

green light

there's a lull somewhere this hour, that i took a pen and jot down some notes. the nurse at health and works suggested last week that if i'm too frail to perform my own chores, why don't i ask a few of my friends to help out, like cooking or a little bit of cleaning. that's very good in theory i reckon, but i couldn't even get them to text me, how much more assist in simple undertakings. the world of the diaspora is more or less about the gatherings and enveloping the buzz in some circles. ministering to a wounded comrade seem to be a farfetched notion unless one cries for help.

if i have full strength, it's a different story, i try my best to be nice. when my mom had her stroke and in the hospital, she had loads of visitors, bringing fruits. but they're there only for a visit. none wouldn't dare perform unenviable tasks for a bed bound person, except family. yes, it's always about family. they would certainly cook for us.

it's a good thing my husband doesn't mind my constant neediness. i'm also grateful for those souls who suggested that i rest. they're certainly not the people whom i mentioned to ry,  i'll cut their numbers to two. the individual on the phone offered me the special vermicelli. i give credit.

i know, i still hate hanging texts. i know we don't always have time for prolonged phone conversations. but we'll get over some stuff.

sugar free

wasn't planning to write until i feel better. but a series of non-texts wilted my spirits. or let's see, i miss my strength. i want to be in the place where i'm not losing weight, or i can at least go to the living room where i'm not feeling dizzy.

there may be some nice people in this world, a few of them even belongs in the diaspora, but it's still cutthroat competition for the right kind of trophies. i hate trophy talk, those bordering on meanness especially when you've been nothing but kind and helpful.

nonetheless, after all the sickness and headaches, i'm no longer in the dark about whom to reveal the bits and bobs in the clean utility room. some are only friendly when you bring some pao's from the oriental store.