Of Happiness and Valiums

To those who’d wilfully been deceived, here’s a brief reminder what the last post was about;

Extracted from 01/04/2009 “I have a boyfriend!” Post:

PS: I fubar’ed my taskbar calendar. What date is today?

If you paid just a smidgen more attention, you’d have noticed that…

AWMIGOD

Bad idea for a joke, I know. :D

Anyway, I haven’t lost that last remnant of sanity. It’s hanging by a thread, but it’s there. The day I get a boyfriend is literally the day hell freezes over. Or the day that shockingly I, well, get a boyfriend. But no one gives a shit ’bout my apathy for relationships, so who really cares, right?

It was either this or wearing a female dress on posting about my new-found enthusiasm for frilly lacey things, pink, smilie-faced lollipops and bouts of paranoia-induced emotional outbursts. But this requires actual OWNING of a dress, so…

Moving on. 

I’ve been staying at Elephant and Castle and after adapting a daily habit of eating juice and cereal for breakfast, bread for lunch and dinner and whatever cookies I get my grubby hands on for snacks, I’ve lost a drastic 7kgs. Within a few weeks. Before you start profusely shouting obscenities at me out of jealousy, I’d like to clarify that I’m not much pleased. If I start losing fat around my tush area, sitting down won’t be as comfortable. I’d start losing reasons for not wearing baby-Ts (eg; I’m too embarassed by my triple-layered tummy!) and well, I actually like the reaction I get subsequent to informing others my actual weight (“Dear God, you weight HOW much? You didn’t eat a horse for dinner… you ate TWO”).

If you’re wondering, I’m 64kgs. Call it heavy bones or additional layers of undulating, stretch-marks causing fat, but I’m a solid 64kg.

Now I’m 59kgs. 

Did you believe that?

Wait. Didn’t I say I lost SEVEN kilograms?

So yeah, I’m actually now 57. For those too slow in discerning that bit of miscalculation… your maths…

FAIL

Actually, everyone’s probably seen that. Here’re my favourites:

So despite my room’s great practicality and the ease of stay generated by its location (It’s near to four major grocery outlets and public transportation… and within walking distance to class), I find myself… well, my tummy being very neglected and desolate. However, I’m not a picky eater and although I do eat a lot, I can ignore the hunger pangs without much complaint. I could get used to this life, eat crap everyday and become a skeletal anorexic (i.e. standard size model)… if it hadn’t been for those pesky seniors in Barking.

Barking’s in Zone 4, which is pretty fucking far from Zone 1. The Malaysian community here is pretty tight and they always seem to have a function every week. We’d congregate to eat Nasi Lemak, Nasi Briyani, Mee Goreng and all the usual Malaysian delicacies you can think of.

They’re split into two. Those in Zone 1 (Some in Baker Street… which is in fucking London central for god’s sake… some in Elephant and Castle as well… and some others in East Dulwich, a nice English community sort of place) and Zone 4 (Barking and Plaistow. Well technically, Plaistow’s in Zone 3). 

Basically, all the action happens in Zone 4. We’d be treated to a delicious meal as everyone starts arriving in groups of 2 and 3, and we’d end the night with a boisterous game of Poker. It’s tight-knit, everyone’s cracking jokes, the ambient is warm, the gossip starts overflowing, everyone shares into self-deprecating humour… it’s just generally a great place to spend with friends.

And then there’s this particular senior.

I call her Kak Eka. She started cooking since she was 12. For her, it was a bloody violent regiment of physical abuse if you don’t get the taste just right. In her family, a minor, trivial mistake or slight deviation from accepted taste and flavour would have her food completely disregarded. Canned.

It’s what you’d expect from a family of caterers.

Within my first month of being here, I ate heavenly and mouth-watering Tom Yam, Nasi Ayam, Nasi Paprik, Mihun Hailam, Sambal Goreng, Ayam Masak Merah, Sweet and Sour Fish, Scrambled Eggs with Anchovies, Pisang Goreng, Nasi Goreng Belacan… and basically anything you can think of, all thanks to her. She doesn’t limit herself to just burst of Malaysian flavour goodness. Just the other day, we had Chicken Chop with Oriental Sauce and Mashed Potatoes. 

Just say the word, and she’d whip up anything that you’ve been craving. I kid you not when I say her cooking’s simply superb. She’s one of those whimsical chefs, capriciously altering the ingredients, working up a storm in the kitchen and within a few minutes, come up with 3 dishes of varying types. I’ve been eating like an Emperor and thanks to her, I regained the weight loss.

Within a few days.

Oh man, I can’t wait to see how I’d look like after two years being here with her.

Thus, I find myself staying over at Barking rather often. Not that I don’t enjoy the company of my foreign housemates. They’re nice guys, sociable and constantly going out for drinks and bringing you along… but one craves food moreso than company. At least for me. (Though I love the Polish guy’s accent. Sik paham pabenda dimadah nya. Tang ngangguk jak aku nengar nya ngelakar).

Today, I ate about four plates of this:

Honey Chicken Rice.

Two words;

Damn.

Good. 

It rivals the Mihun Hailam and the Nasi Paprik which are two of my previous favourite dish from her. And, the best part of all is that, I only have to pay £20 monthly to leech off their food

If you think I’m being a cheapskate, all of the other member of the household contributes £20 to eat lavishly everyday (This is the first time I thought of taking a picture of the food, you guys missed out on a lot of good ol’ fashioned food porn).

How great is that shit, eh?

zOMG this is totally cool! 

After years of refusing to be with anyone, of sticking to my principles and deluded, self-imposed belief of self-worth, I’ve decided to succumb to the pressures of peer folly.

First it was facebook, now it’s finding myself someone to be with.

What next?!

It’s like I’m all giddy inside, always wondering what he’ll say next, what he’ll do next, anticipating his calls, texts and sweet nothings whispered to my ear.

Chain of freedom? Overrated!

This feeling of elation can never, EVER be replicated.

And not to mention, Google Chrome released a 3D version of itself! Now we can surf the web in a more realistic and world based interface. How cool is that!? I totally recommend it to you guys searching for a fuller experience on the (previously mundane and dull until THIS came along) web browser. Youtube also has a new and more practical layout. Can this day get any better?

No more self-righteous tirades on how having a boyfriend is a waste of time from me, nope. I’ve jumped the bandwagon and oh boy, I ain’t going back. I’ll waste precious amount of times wondering why he’s 0.5 seconds late in replying to my texts, shout shrilly at him if he helps that old woman cross the street (I totally saw you undressing her granny panties with your eyes!), demand that only I’m allowed to be in his MSN, ICQ, Google Talk and phone contacts list (or when I’m generous, he’s allowed to add his mother too whatever) and talk about him incessantly to jealous people who may LOOK bored when I talk about our day but are actually rolling their eyes in jealousy.

JEALOUSY.

I’m on seventh heaven. I’m in bliss.

Here’s his picture with his crappy web-cam on an old and utterly obsolete Dell:

<3

He’s not as tech-savvy as I’d like him to be but not everyone’s perfect. I so love my baby!

PS: I fubar’ed my taskbar calendar. What date is today?