I found Singapore Laksa Sauce in Marks & Spencers today. It had a 3 chilli hotness rating. I bought it anyway. Spaghetti looks a lot like laksa noodle when it's covered completely with the sauce. And it tasted authentic. Laksa leaf and everything. But the hotness... Does everybody know the taste of McDonald's pepper? Yes, exactly. No shiok feeling at all. Not even for me, the famous lousy chilli eater. Man, there wasn't even a single dot of chilli oil floating on top even though the ingredients list clearly said "chilli". Yes, laugh all you want. I was happy enough that it tasted like laksa at all. Food does taste bland here when you compare it to Singaporean stuff . It isn't so much the chilli but the spices. Most Singaporean dishes use about a million different herbs and spices. And everything gets marinated for years and years. Here, the furthest they go is salt, pepper and ketchup or brown sauce or vinegar. Life has no Spice.

I've had a whole day free today and decided not to go out but stay in my room. And staying in the room all alone for prolonged periods of time breeds the poetic urge so here're a few pieces of literary genius by the Master. Each poem is dedicated to a special person. If you would like a poem dedicated to you, feel free to make a request and I will see what I can do.

Lamenting the Cracked Cup
for Xinying, who understands the small tragedies of life.

When Hot
meets Cold
and mixes,
results are often
Unexpected.
The cup with
the picture of a kitten.
Cracks from top to
bottom.

(This poem was inspired by the real life event of my nice cup with the kitten cracking because the hot tap was too hot and the cold tap was too cold.)

Of Men, Women and Marriage
for Tan Yi Jun.

A wise woman told her grand-daughter,
Women can be independent of Men.
Do wise men tell their grand-sons,
That Men can be independent of Women?

What is Marriage,
If not an arrangement of
Inter-dependence?

And young girls and boys
Make plans for the future
That will prove futile
For sure

Marriage is never far from the mind of the girl with
Motherly instincts
And the boy who knows he is a
Family man

And for the Men and Women who resolve to be
Single
Will life be a journey made alone?
Or will Resolve be
Crushed by a
DAMN SEXY MAN OR WOMAN
who intrudes upon the solo heart?

(Inspired by numerous conversations with various friends on the subject of marriage. note to ah boy: "DAMN" here is used as a literary device, not a swear word.)

Cycling Cold
for Tan Liling, who likes rhyming poems

The road stretches before me
The weather will not be good
That's what they said on BBC
Must I cycle? I should.

At first if feels like rain
Falling on my shoulders
Then I feel the pain
Snow in eyes like boulders.

The incline is not steep
It seems like a gentle slope
So up the slope I slowly creep
As my legs struggle to cope

And when I reached my destination
I am frozen and soaked through
Enter class and a French examination
That I am obliged to do.

(Inspired by the true events of Monday night when I cycled to French class at night when it was snowing. The french exam is true too.)

I tried to cook rice and ended up with one week's worth of porridge for breakfast lunch and dinner. I will try again once I finish the porridge.

It snowed today. I was having a lecture at King's Manor on the second floor. The window was behind the lecturer. When it started to snow, everyone just stared happily outside the window and the lecturer thought that we were suddenly all very interested in what he had to say about Cultural Resource Management. But sadly, it was too warm for it to remain snow on the ground so there were just puddles of water where there should have been snow. We were very disappointed.

I had a fun time cycling back though. Imagine little bits of ice smacking your face as you cycle uphill whilst trying not to breath so as not to fog up your glasses and be rendered effectively blind. And the howling blizzard wind threatens to blow you into the path of a truck. I felt like a cycling icicle. Have I mentioned how big trucks seem to appear from nowhere behind you on the coldest, wettest days and how car drivers seem to think it is necessary to be reckless on such days?

Sad times for Jun and Wen. My condolences. And a big hug that reaches across land and sea, from Britain to Singapore.

Song Change! Enjoy a classic. Ballet Music From Rosamunde

I woke up today in a fantastic mood. What a NICE, HAPPY day! I made some hot tea with milk. Cooked some pasta with carrots. Taste so good. I'm just very happy for no apparent reason.

I had an interesting chat with the ever-amusing Azeena on MSN. Tried to sell her on my Iranian neighbour again. She seemed a lot keener this time. We talked about strange stuff like revealing clothes in Bollywood films and what sort of girls are attractive. I think she is really repressed.

Chatted with Ah Boy too. She hates it when I swear. Fuck. Opps! Damn. Opps! Shit. Opps! Gosh?

I also made Christmas plans with my sister. Planned the menu, decor and theme. She thinks my mummy is not in good shape to handle the preparations so we will have to do it.. Fantastic. The theme for house decorations this year is angels and stars. We have conceptualised a classy look. Foodwise, it is going to be pretty. The turkey will have those frilly paper things attached to the legs. Garnishes will be used liberally. It is going to be a busy kitchen on 24th December. Exciting. Here's an idea of the menu:

Starters/soups/salads:

- Hors d'Oeuvres. Pretty little things. Sweet ones: fruit topping. Savoury ones: smoked salmon/caviar topping
- Prawn bisque
- Waldorf salad
- Caesar salad
- Prawn cocktail

Sides:

- Escargots
- Mussels
- Tinned oysters
- Smoked salmon
- Boiled quails' eggs
- Grilled potatoes
- Satay

Sauces/dips:

- Pesto
- Traditional tomato-based pasta sauce
- Salmon mouse

Main courses:

- Turkey with herb stuffing
- Baked pork chops with rosemary. Garnished with herbs and caramelised onions
- Chicken risotto with avocado slices
- Fish casserole
- Baked crab
- Olive rice

Desserts:

- Chocolate fondue
- Apple crumble with vanilla ice cream
- Berry crumble with hot custard sauce
- Trifle with berries
- Cheesecake

Drinks:

- Chocolate milkshake (frothy and low in fat!)
- Red wine
- Bailey's Irish cream
- Water!
- Assorted soft drinks

Junk food:

- Potato chips
- Assorted chocolates


Doesn't it sound exciting? I will be the master chef, of course. I have taken over Christmas dinner since last year. I'm raising standards. It is going to be a crazy kitchen this year. I will have to work hard to keep things in control and to keep track of the time. Planning planning planning. I will have to make sure food gets served hot and cold stuff gets served cold. And so many of the items have to be prepared from scratch. Things like the prawn bisque (peal prawns, flambé prawns, boil stock, etc) stuffed turkey that has to be defrosted the night before. All the main courses as well as the Hors d'Oeuvres, salads, trifle, crumbles, baked potatoes, quail eggs and sauces have to be prepared for scratch. I don't like to use too much ready-made stuff. Laziness does not produce gourmet Christmas dinners. Yeah baby!

Winter has descended upon York. The green fields are now sprinkled with frost. Sprinkled? Blanketed, more like.

It is completely foggy outside now. I can't see the grass on the ground from my window on the second floor.

On Sunday morning, I was on my way back from Mass. Being sleepy-eyed and in "Holy Bible" mode, I thought I was witnessing the miracle of walking on water being performed by gulls. Then I whacked myself on the head and realised that what appeared to be a miracle was just most of the lake being frozen.

I bought the nice leather gloves. Keeps my hands at just the right temperature. I also bought furry blue socks for sleeping in. They look really funny. And I bought ker-nee high black socks to prevent calf cramps. Yes, a socks shopping spree.

Oh yes. On Saturday, I had a cold but had to go out to buy groceries. I cycled there and bought my stuff. Then, I discovered that the stuff I had bought wouldn't fit into my backpack. So, intelligently, I packed the remaining stuff into two plastic bags and hung one on each handlebar of the bicycle. The thing with having a free-swinging weights on each handlebar is that they keep swinging. In different directions. And there are these things Physics students study known as Momentum and Force. So, I was on the road and every time there was the slightest bend in the road... WHEE!!! I was honked at by so many cars and I can't remember how many times I almost died on that cold Saturday afternoon while cycling like a drunkard with a bad cold.

I think I'm falling in love.

The frost is so pretty
Oh the cold. The Cold. The COLD, COLD COLD

To Boon & Jun: I hope your grandmother is ok. Two of you, please take care.

Hello readers! I've had a really relaxed week. One of the lecturers was on medical leave so there was only one lecture and one seminar this week. I've been doing a lot of reading to make myself smart and knowledgeable although I'm already very much so. My first essay has been marked and I got a good grade. My only mistake was a citation mistake but that was only because I didn't know how to cite a source that was a lecture according to the Harvard style of referencing. The evaluations for my seminar presentations so far have also been quite good. It would appear that I'm not as useless at Archaeology as I first thought. We shall see how it goes.

Scottish salmon has been on the menu all week. I bake it in the oven with pesto sauce and it's super delicious.

It's getting very cold now (below zero at night) and it is going to get colder. According to someone who has a farming background, you can tell that it's going to be a cold winter if there are a lot of berries on the holly bushes. The bushes are absolutely covered with berries! The squirrels have also been hoarding nuts like nobody's business. It's going to be a cold, cold winter.

When it gets too cold, I will probably camp in the kitchen beside the oven. For now, camping beside the radiator in my room stops me dying from hypothermia.

I was checking out gloves on thursday. The sports gloves looked nice but they were too bulky. I saw this black leather pair that was tempting but really expensive. Maybe I will buy them as a birthday present for me.

My Cypriot flatmate was cooking a really interesting soup in the kitchen. A porridgey concoction made from wheat, barley and cheese. She gave me some cheese to try and it tasted like mozzarella but saltier and had mint leaves in it. I've never seen a soup like that before.

My Iranian flatmate was telling me about how one of the Electronics lecturers had brought a prototype head-controlled wheelchair for a demonstration in class. Tilt head back to go backwards, lean forward to go forward, look left to turn left etc. And I asked, " What if the person in the wheelchair wanted to look left while turning right?"

I am writing another essay. Terribly things, essays. Being the chronic procrastinator that I have always been, I decided to explore hiding places in my small room when I was supposed to be writing the essay. I made the great discovery that I can fit comfortably in the wardrobe, close the door and sit down in the comfortable darkness that smells of clean clothes. I also went to the kitchen in search of distraction and found the Iranian fella cooking his lunch and randomly discussed imaginary numbers in electronics and the use of cement to make casts of the carbonised bodies in Pompeii. I also checked out the weather forecast which says that night temperatures might go as low as 0 over the next few days. And then, I came here to write this post.

Procrastination is essential to the production of good work because good work can only be done last minute due to the need for deadline pressure to stimulate brain cells and encourage concentration. Long live last-minute work!

Oooh... fun things.
On Saturday, people over here celebrated Bonfire Night. For those who don't know what it is, google "Guy Fawkes".

I went caving again. This time, it was a much bigger and dryer cave. We changed outside a church and one girl wondered if it would be wrong to show her bum to the church. Then, we descended into the cave using a rope. I was dangling on the rope over a deep, dark hole in the ground (about 12m) when my hair got caught in the rack (metal friction device attached to rope). The people already at the bottom tied a knife to the end of the rope but by the time I managed to get the knife up, most of the stuck hair had already torn off. Adrian, the guy who helped with my hair, is apparently considering a career in hairdressing now. One of the guys lent me a balaclava later and thus saved me from becoming increasingly bald.

We crawled through miles of muddy tunnels and descended another 30m (no hair problems) to arrive at a huge chamber that contained a fabulous waterfall. The chamber was as big as York Minster and the waterfall was huge. Google "Gaping Gill". Beautiful, beautiful water. Splashy splashy.

When we finally emerged from the cave, it was already dark. Because we were in the Dales, it was also foggy. I though we were still in the cave and stupidly asked one of the fellas how the plants managed to survive in a dark cave.

On the drive back, there were blazing bonfires and spectacular fireworks on both sides of the road. Imagine driving along a dark road flanked by pyrotechnic displays. Pretty Pretty.

On Monday, I decided to go jogging to think about stuff and kill time. It looked sunny so I went in t-shirt and shorts. I wasn't too bad while I was jogging but when I came back, I realised that my skin was almost frozen. Imagine me red from jogging but frozen from wind. One thing I really appreciate is that you don't get sweaty and drippy like in Singapore. Very comfortable jogging, except for the frozen after-jog.

Yesterday night, I went to a cake and pudding party at a caver's house. Cake for dinner was good. Then they started playing silly games like twister and stuff. There was one particular game that showed everybody what a freak of nature I was. It involved picking a cardboard box up with the teeth with both feet on the ground, hands and knees off. Every round, the cardboard box was reduced in height until it was a just a piece of cardboard on the floor. Then, books were introduced and you had to put your front foot on the books as you bent down to pick up the cardboard. You know me, I have short legs and I'm dead flexible. So, I was just stretching a little and bending a little to get the cardboard, wondering why everyone else couldn't do it. And everybody thought it just wasn't natural. When I reached my limit, they actually got out a tape measure and announced that the pile was 7 inches (17cm) high. I was asked to join the circus along with a few of the guys who were also pretty good. I was very amused.