IAAOM - I am ashamed of myself.

I am ashamed of myself.

Indeed I truly am, to let people know that I cook. A silly mistake, which I related to my childhood friend who came by for lunch today.

Stay-Home-Dad (SHD) made his signature porridge today, knowing that we will be expecting a guest. So while my friend and I were catching up over porridge, I told her the main event that happenned yesterday which will scar me for life.

Here's why.

Before SHD went for his routine workout yesterday, he left a set of instructions for me to carry out (cut up garlic, onions, potatoes, carrots and wash and cut greens). Having finished those tasks, I noticed a small bowl of uncut chilli padi willing me to cut them up, which I did, hypnotized and obligated to do so. Hence, without hesitation and with a paper kitchen towel (to reduce the amount of essence that'll stay on my fingers), I proceeded to seed them and chop them up, throwing the paper towel 1/3 way through (damn troublesome). THEN, I felt a tsunami approaching, I rushed to the toilet to relieve myself with my water-rinsed chilli hands!! At that point in time, relieving myself seemed more important. Until, I felt a burning sensation with dickie. OMFG! What a himbo! With that, I heard the doors unlocked and SHD's warning,

"After you cut up the chilli padi, don't touch your eyes with your hands."
Me: Err, okaaayy..*my voice trails off* muttering: My fucking dick is burning, but thanks for the warning, at least I know one place less to touch.
SHD: What's that?
Me: *mustering up my best normal voice* "Nothing, thanks for the warning. Why don't you go shower?" As colloquially as possible.

Better than dripping wax, I would say.

Oh well.

*****

Which reminds me of another no less humiliating story which happenned to me in the toilet when I was warded in hospital. Yep, that's right, all good things happen in the toilet.

During the car ride after having coffee with 2 friends, I recalled a certain comedic moment I had in the hospital toilet when my friend spoke about some toilet issues.

Here's what's comedic.

Day1 evening, the nurse put me on a portable drip stand. Before that, we had this short conversation. *Spoiler: If you can't handle sexual innuendos, I suggest you stop reading here*

Sickeningly Sweet Nurse (SSN): Which hand do you want me to insert your drip?
Me: Err...
SSN: Which is your master hand?
Me: Err.....
SSN: Huh..
Me: Well, I write with my right hand but I play tennis and other sports with my left. However, I don't think that I am ambidextrous. (While saying that, I was simultaneously thinking if I should tell her,"My masturbation hand can?" But then, what if I alternate between Miss Left and Miss Right? And what if I.. Okay, way too many details.)
SSN: Okaaaaaaay.. So... Which hand?
Me: Err.. Since the drawer (with my non-sexual entertainment materials) is on the right, then my left hand loh.
SSN: You sure?
Me: Yep, please go ahead.

With that, she proceeded to mercilessly carry out the step by step procedure which ended with a satisfied smile and nod from her.

Forward to next morning, standard procedure: brush teeth, wash face, bake cake. All these done while pushing the stand with me. After baking, I needed to clean up and I was astounded by a shocking truth, I HAVE NO IDEA HOW TO CLEAN THE OVEN WITH MY RIGHT HAND! I was in a half squat position, thinking whether to go in between my legs or from outside my right thigh. I tried both and it felt extremely idiotic and mildly amusing. I sat back down and laughed as silently as possible, hoping that my wardmates did not have super sensory hearing. Now, that felt damn weird but I couldn't help but laugh. In the end, I managed to clean the oven and exited the toilet pretending nothing interesting happenned inside.

"You never cease to amaze me!", my friend said. "First the armpits, then now this!" Laughing hysterically.

*Cue for armpit story*
Ok, I'll make the armpit story short. Went for a cousin's wedding overseas this June. Went to pick up bride on wedding day.Then, saw alot of people. Then, saw very little food. THEN, saw many flies hovering around food. THEN, saw the bridesmaid. Then, realised she was quite pleasant looking with her nicely done up hair and her decent dress. THEN, saw the bridesmaid's armpit hair!! I disconnected my gaze without going down further. -_______________-

Felt like doing this to her.

Then, I couldn't help it but took a second look (something that you just want to look a few times, to... u know.. be sure) It cannot be categorized as hair! It's... So.. Dense. Come on man, I mean, woman, don't wear something sleeveless, if you dont have the habit of shaving. I dont think it is even considered slightly sexy in the country we were in. Grooming check babe, grooming check.

But then again, this speeds up the process.

10,20,50

10cents, 20cents, 50cents, that is.

My Medical Leave got extended till the 16th of August! Oh well. I'm just going to make good use of the time. With that, I decided to pack my room yesterday, sorting out the writing table first, moving on to the cluttered floor and my lazy chair (I've dethroned all my stuff, which has been reigning king for several months now) and finishing up with my display cabinet.

I impatiently dug out my FORTUNE from the piggy banks to only come to.. a.. disappointing.. sum.. of $63.60. Gee, I think I have piglet banks.

Already having slight OCD when I was in my geeky days, wearing my 2inch thick glasses, I had 3 piggy banks, one each for 10,20 and 50cents, in that order, in a straight line, from left to right in my display cabinet. Mum wanted to keep 50cents, but I advised her against it since 50cents doesn't have a butt plug, instead she's using a stick on pad that prevents side leakage (made of unopened packet of alcohol swipe and tape) and her skull's cracked. In the end, she unwillingly got rid of it. Hopefully, my friend will accept 10 and 20cents which are still in pristine condition to give to the kids at the home where she works.

My prized possessions in the cabinet with the collection of Chocolate Liqueur, Moets, etc. Gold bottle of Prosseco, Greek Citrus Liqueur (green peeping out), vintage Chocolate Raspberry Cabernet sauce, Canadian Dream Catcher, Venetian Mask, Greek Chess Set and finally, the limited bottle of Grappa from Cathay Pacific, a birthday gift. More bottles of "Too-Large-To-Fit" alcohol in a box! Anyway, what makes the Grappa even more unique is the glass figure in the bottle! A model of the Airbus 330! All hand blown! Close-up shot on the right.

Some stuff still needs to be done, frame up some artwork, pack my wardrobe and secretly exercising. Haven't done so in months, just started my routine today, hoping against Hope, that Stay-Home-Dad and Ah-Nag-Mum never will find out. According to Ah-Nag-Mum, I can't carry heavy stuff and exert any force after my operation.

I don't promise that I will not try. Stealth.

NEND - No expectations, no disappointments.

No expectations, no disappointments.

I met a friend in the evening to get some stuff from her. We talked for a bit before she let out a,"You didnt tell me about your op, but some of your friends knew! Do you even treat me as your friend?!" I paused for a while. Recalling some issues she had with her partner, I calmly told her,"I think you expect too much sometimes, from your friends, even from your partner. And if they don't live up to your expectations as how they should behave, you will begin to question their actions and be disappointed. Don't you think you'll be happier if you didn't expect so much?" And then we completely avoided the topic altogether. Having known her for almost 2 years now, I deduce that she's the type of person who will give her all in a friendship and a relationship and she expects the same from the other party. A naive, wide-eyed princess who I truly appreciate as a friend. The first friend, I have made since starting my job.

I am rather particularly private even though I might seem to have a pretty exuberant personality at times. I get extremely uncomfortable when people, especially strangers whom I have met for a few hours start probing about my personal life. Making conversation is not an excuse. There are a trillion and one things to talk about.

Therefore, starting this blog has been and is a GIANT step for me but I don't count on myself to release everything. I live life with many mantras, one of which,"No expectations, no disappointments." This, which I have learnt in the critical years of my adolescence where I can get quite disturbed when my friends do not behave in a way I expect them to. One day, it just hit me. I have no right to expect them to behave how I think they should, we are all individuals. Hang on, I DO have a right to expect and they do have a right NOT to conform as well. I respect their decision makings and require no need for explanation. You do not have to explain to anybody, because people who like you, do not need it and people who do not like you, would not belive you anyway. The only time when I want to listen to an explanation is when I am in the mood for stories. My mood comes in very regular intervals.

Who doesn't like a bit of gossip. Come on.

*****

Looking forward to having a break in September when I have 2 weeks of leave, Holiday Leave! Going off to England to see my precious god daughter. Charming, a darling, really. I saw her last year when all she could say was,"No way!" I spoke to my cousin a few days ago and heard from her that kiddo here has started asking her mummy repeatedly if she knows when I am dropping by for a visit and what I am currently doing. Usually leaves my cousin stunned with a "How the f*** would I know what he's doing now?" kind of look. Can't wait to see you too babe.

IHALBFW - I'm having a long break from work.

I'm having a long break from work.

Sounds ideal but understanding my present situation, NOT so ideal. I am on Medical Leave till the 1st of August from the 7th of July, which makes it almost a month! Cut the story short, went for operation, therefore Hospitalization Leave.

However, this break came at a good time too. Of finding several things to occupy my mind, I decided to start a blog today, after much protests from myself when my friends initially urged me to start one. I finished several books in the past 2 weeks, including one which I am re-reading now, having finished it 2 days ago, The Sharper Your Knife, The Less You Cry by Kathleen Flinn. The book is about her finally realising her dream to attend the world renowned culinary school, Le Cordon Bleu in Paris. (I did not make it to the top of the Tower, it was WAYYYY too cold, just took some quick shots)

http://www.kathleenflinn.com/

http://www.cordonbleu.edu/

This book was on loan to me by my dear cousin and these are her shoes of the moment, Varina, by Salvatore Ferragamo. Well, she owns one pair, this picture was just sent to her for her to decide on colour. Anyway, let's not digress.

I thank her for doing so (loaning me the book, not buying the shoes). It not only relieved me of boredom but also revived my passion for cooking and churning out baked goods (my virgin experience). I love working in the kitchen, with no help from my mum (not that I would ask for any). We have contrasting methods and we (more so I) usually end up snapping at one another (more so me snap her than her snap me. Try saying that 10 times faster, 10 times. It's fun to do).

With this relighted flame, I realised that there's only one answer, no doubt about it, to save and work towards a culinary school. Ever since I completed my Diploma in Hospitality Management with Temasek Polytechnic, I knew that cooking will definitely be on top of my list. Right now, I am still enjoying my job tremendously, though not in the kitchen. I will have enough fun, I will save enough money, I will go to a culinary school.

I quote, "Pastry is like people. Some dough needs a lot of kneading, some requires much less. Some dough is satisfied to rise just a little, while other dough needs to double in size. All dough needs warmth to rise." Unquote. Taken from The Sharper Your Knife, The Less You Cry - Memoirs of a Quiche.

With this, ends today's entry.