Dear diary,

I don't normally watch or support Singapore Idol, but this performance really blew me away.

Hady Mizra.

Don't ever miss this. =)

Dear diary,

Feeling dreamy today. Whooshhhh.

Dear diary,

Why am I blogging this instant? Do I have something that I absolutely have to let loose into this infinite cyberspace? Am I going to say something that'll change the course of history as we know it? Have I made a startling discovery or solved a mathematical conundrum?

No. I'm trying to procrastinate working on my more "serious" priorities, and what excuse am I liberally giving myself this time round?

I need to shower before I start on anything "serious", I need to feel like a squeaky clean dinner china, and I can't shower without water, and that is the premise of my argument. Now why don't I have water, in Singapore where water is but a flick of the wrist away?

Well, I do not have water at this very instant because plumbing is being done in my kitchen, and as most of us know, when plumbing work is to be carried out, the wisest thing to do is to cut off the main water supply first, unless you're a goldfish reading my blog through your glass bowl.

So there you have it. Another perfect excuse to enjoy myself on a sunny Saturday afternoon.

Dear diary,

By some dumb luck, many mistakes leading to the making of my latest batch of banana ice cream has miraculously added a twist to the finished product.

First, I ran out of milk, a realisation only after I finished mixing all the other ingredients. It was getting late and I didn't want to lose my temper over stupid ice cream, and so I conveniently replaced it with a squealing pack of sweetened soya milk, without much thought or foresight. Sorry soya, the cow udder missed its appointment.



And then someone ate my bananas. I don't know who, because if I knew I'd be someplace without an internet connection right now.

I was left with 2 deadish looking bananas that neither has smell nor taste. But as I mentioned, it was getting late and I didn't wanna lose my temper over stupid ice cream, so I used them anyway. I was supposed to puree it with lemon juice, and although I had the lemon and did the simple task of slicing it in half, I couldn't find the bloody lemon juicer. And so, being the enterprising me, I used my hand to crush the lemon to juice it, and whilst trying to remove all the freaking seeds from the banana goo, it hit me that by violently mangling the lemons I had inadvertently released the strong and bitter taste of the lemon peel into the mixture also.

Let's fast forward to the end. I placed the soya milk mixture into my ice cream machine and left it in the freezer for quicker freezing, went upstairs to finish up my articles and conveniently forgot about it. An hour later I was downstairs cursing at how stiff the ice cream had become and it was near to impossible to fold the bananarama-lemon-bitter goo into it. I had to take a spatula and try to mash it all in, quite a horrific sight to behold really.

Then I tasted the ice cream without the banana part, and it tasted fantastic. Smooth, with a soya taste, really good. Then I regretted throwing in the disgusting bananarama-lemon-bitter goo into it cause it'll probably spoil the ice cream. And it kinda did. It gave the ice cream a zesty sour taste, kinda like a lemon sorbet, altho it was hardly anywhere near that. But I don't care. I'm just gonna rename it Sour Soyanana.

Sounds cool huh.

I could probably market it.

Ice Cream

Swirling, twirling, sticky, icky,
Toffee, coffee, berry, cherry,
Lemon lime and minty thyme or
Durian paste with aftertaste and
Mash and gnash with only fresh
Fruity Loops and Chupa Chups.

Watch it freeze and see it crease.
Vanilla waves and mango caves,
Surf the cream and live the dream;
Indiana Jones in wafer cones with
Chocolate sticks and Oreo bits
Battle and rattle the Marshmellow fellow.

Drizzle and sprizzle and sprinkle and twinkle
Rum and gum and everything fun.
Black and blue with orange hue
Everything's fine it'll taste divine.
Top it off with soda pop, then
Lick your way to tooth decay.

Dear diary,

Call me a geek all you want, but one of the easiest ways to improve your English writing style in an informative manner is to read the blog maintained by BBC's editors.

Cool.

Dear diary,

Harvard Project for Asian and International Relations (HPAIR) series of seminars and talks weren't half bad. In fact, not bad at all.

I got to listen to talks on IP protection and its trends, its abuse by some and the (lackof) utilization by others. I slipped into another workshop by Srivatsa Krishna, a World Bank bigwig, giving a low-down on the very hot topic of India, its expansion, flaws and some remarkable -and relatively unknown- statistics and figures.

Delegates from all over the world actually paid 300+ USD to attend this 4 day event, while I happily zipped around the rooms flashing my dinky little card that says "Press", suddenly elevating my insignificant existence to the ranks of glitzy Harvard tribunes and other recognized publications - all for free.

So much is going on in the world, and for people like me who just carry on with their mundane little lives managing their personal duties and obstacles, these sort of experiences put things into perspective.

I particularly liked this quote that Srivatsa borrowed from Heraclitus (Greek philosopher, 535 - 475 BC):

"There is nothing permanent except change."

How true. True of the very nature of life and our existence.

Dear diary,

Been wanting to get out into the sun more, promised my friends for basketball later today and realised I forgot about this important HPAIR conference tomorrow I'm supposed to cover.

That's life for you. Sun + Sweat + Tan + Basketball => Stale airconditioning + Redtape + Jostling + Seminars I wouldn't half understand. Funny how things can turn out the complete opposite of what you're expecting.

Also bought too many things in too short a time. Still reeling from the aftermath. Can't say I regret though, they were good and useful purchases. At least for now.

School's starting soon too. Ergh.

Dear diary,

Things are starting to heat up.

Too many deadlines, too little time, too laid back, too me.

I swear on whoever's honour one swears on that I must complete my articles by today.

Switching on auto-pilot, workaholic mode now.

Whrrrrrrrrrr.

The brain you are trying to contact is currently unavailable. Please try again later, or note the news for a tall Chinese male who died choking on his own saliva. Thank you.

Dear diary,

First attempt at ice-cream making was a horror. Fun, no doubt, still...

Baking Enlightenment #1

It didn't take me long before figuring out that when recipe books say "whisk eggs for 1-2 minutes until light and fluffy", they meant to use an electric egg-beater. Trust me, after 40mins of manual egg-whisking, you'll look at old-time bakers with a new sense of awe and admiration.

Baking Enlightenment #2

Always check that the chocolate you'll be using is "unsweetened/baking" chocolate, because the sugar they ask you to use is built on this assumption. Unless your idea of sweet is a sugar-rush of 3 days before the onset of massive multiple organ failure.

Baking Enlightenment #3

As much as possible, refrigerate your cream base for 2hrs at least before freezing in the ice-cream maker. For impatient oh-come-on-how-much-difference-does-1hr-make people like me, prepare to relish a chocolate ice-cream that tastes like the milo icicles that your 5 year-old neighbour makes for a class in his nursery.

Baking Enlightenment #4

Fresh, homemade ice-cream will always be softer than the ice blocks you call commercial ice-cream. Never attempt to ferry the ice-cream elsewhere for your friends' consumption without sufficient keeping in your freezer, unless you fancy chocolate cream soup or you happen to live in the Artics. Or both.

I'm now going to attempt a coffee ice-cream with my newfound experience.

Keep your fingers crossed.

Dear diary,

Ok. I've gotten all the stuff I need at Phoon Huat, if not, at least most of them.

I still don't know the difference between "vanilla flavouring" and "vanilla extract". It's obviously different -the price in particular-, but the sales lady insists there isn't much difference. Right. But being the cheapo me, I've convinced myself my tastebuds aren't sensitive enough to distinguish between the two.

Let's see what's on the list for my virgin ice-cream making experience:

1. Chocolate Peppermint

To make the chocolate ice cream:

• 4 ounces unsweetened chocolate - check
• 1 cup milk - check
• 2 large eggs - Large eggs. How large is an egg considered large? Where are the bloody dimensions...
  
• 1 cup sugar - check
• 1 cup heavy cream - check
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract - (sorry, cheap replacement vanilla flavouring only)
• 1 pinch salt - How much more arbitrary can they get? A pinch? So people with fat thumbs deserve salty ice-cream?

Apparently the people in the cooking business are so boring they all use the industry's universally-accepted homogenic CUP. Nothing else but THE CUP. Kinda like the biblical chalice huh?

2. Apple Strawberry

• 1 pint fresh strawberries, hulled and sliced - Lol. A pint of strawberries? Bartender please.
• Juice of 1/2 lemon - Again no sizing. I assume they have strict size control for lemons.
  
• Sweet Cream Base - Common ice-cream base. No worries.
• 1/2 cup apple cider jelly - Ok this thingmajig is really confusing. I know apples. I know apple cider. It's liquid, yes. And now I'm supposed to know how to jellyize it. Right. Not to mention it sounds like something gross.
• 1 cup peeled diced apples - Reasonable.
  

Sounds adventurous.

Sounds yummy.

Sounds like people who write recipe books always ensure the reader will never get it exactly right to protect their crummy arses.

Sounds like a disaster.

Dear diary,

I plan to wake up early tomorrow to catch a nice sunrise.

I figured out a simple way of explaining why humans are almost always depressed and stressed - they don't watch the sunrise enough.

If everyone in modern society only has time to look at the sunset (some don't even have time for that), then what they only get to see daily is the tragic beauty of the sun losing its radiance to the bleak darkness, and never the uplifting rays of the rising sun, like heaven's arrows, cutting through the black scourge.

According to my theory, the effects of such prolonged exposure to this powerful symbol of defeatism can adversely affect the human psyche, resulting in symptoms such as: Cynicism, anti-social behaviour, mood swings, listlessness, fatalism, low self-esteem and loss in libido.

Cure is as simple as crawling out of bed at seemingly insane hours to watch a miraculous ritual quietly performed daily through our snores and above our goose-down comforters.

Wakey wakey.

Dear diary,

I'm really beat! Bushed! Shacked! Tired!

But you know what?

I've never felt this alive, never felt the sensory jolt of dancing with the surroundings or the complete detachment of an ecstatic mind from my drained body for ages now.

It seemed like a day I had done everything right and everything right was showered upon me.

Unbelievable.

You don't have to travel far to rejuvenate yourself.