Oh Look, Krill!

Oh don't worry. Whales don't eat clownfish, they eat krill.


I Fucking Hate Mussels

mussels

And I’ve barely started my damn project. The stupid things keep dying on me and have you seen a dead, decomposing mussel? They’re freaking disgusting because they don’t rot, they liquefy!

Now, imagine half a tank of those liquified fuckers! Do you know how rank the entire lab can be?!

Right now I have tank of about 60-70 mussels but when I went back to feed them and change the water today, third of those fuckers died and it was horrendous.

Seriously, if they keep dying on me like this, how the heck am I ever going to get anything done?!

Fuck you, mussels. Fuck you, I say!


Missing The Supermarket

You don’t realise how much something means to you until you don’t have it any more. That was what I found out when the supermarket at the mall closed and I was left without a convenient place to do my groceries.

The mall near my neighbourhood is currently undergoing major renovations and as a result of that, the Cold Storage supermarket had closed down. Why do I lament the closing of a supermarket that is generally a little pricier than the ones that are just walking distance from my house? The reason for that is the variety of the items available at Cold Storage.

The supermarkets very near my home are catered to the local masses, with mostly Asian products, sauces and limited choices of cheese, dairy products and various other ingredients that are imported. Due to the relatively big expatriate community near where I live, the items at the Cold Storage are catered to them; with the multiple types of dairy products, various cold cut options and even a rotisserie for barbecued chicken too.

I never realised how important Cold Storage was until I wanted to make lasagna and discovered that none of the supermarkets in the area carried ricotta, fresh mozzarella and fresh herbs. I had to settle for frozen mince since I couldn’t get fresh mince anywhere. It was very frustrating.

I really hope that once the renovation works at the mall are completed, I’ll get my supermarket back. I miss having all the ingredients that I want only a train station away.


Whinging, Because I Need It

These past couple of weeks have been hectic. Work basically drained so much of my energy that I barely have energy, or time, to do anything else.

The flash fiction that is due tomorrow isn’t going to get written because well, it’s due tomorrow and I haven’t even started writing yet.

Most importantly, my school stuff has been in the back burner for a while. I’ve barely scratched the surface of what I’m supposed to read on. I should at least do a rough draft of my protocol but the perfectionist in me wants the complete, perfect protocol. It feels like an albatross hanging around my neck.


On top of that, work wise, so many things that need to be done and I’ve only got 2 hands.

I really don’t feel like doing anything productive.

GAH! Seriously. I need more time and motivation to get things moving.

To make up for this whinge, here’s a clip from my favourite Buffy episode.


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Colleagues And Paintball

Paint ball
Photo by The-Jeff

My office will be going out for paint ball outing after office hours today. However, I will not be joining them. When the email was going around asking if anyone was interested, I’d already to told the organiser that I would not be going, citing that my anger management is at an all time low and I worry for the safety of my colleagues if I did go.

They think that I was joking when I told them that I might get too carried away and injure someone, when in fact I was being absolutely serious. I have issues with some of the people I work with and handing me a gun, albeit just a paint ball gun, is not a smart thing to do. They said that, since there’s a limited amount of ammo that is given to us, there’s not much damage that I can do.

I have a savage side that I conceal and repress for the safety of everyone. If I’m out of blood, I will go all out to kill you. So what if I run out of ammo? I’ll just clobber you on the head with the gun until you pass out and then steal your gun. Then I’ll go after the others. Therein lies the danger. Do I really want to risk going berserk when everyone else is just there to have fun? I don’t think so.

It’s not that I’m afraid of getting shot. In fact, I think that I would enjoy paint ball very much. I just find that going with the people I work with, may not be the smartest of ideas especially if you have unresolved issues. My enjoyment of paintball depends on the people I go with.

If the Adventure Crew is going to organise a paintball thing, then I’m all in.


Not Enough Hours In A Day

Have you ever thought that there’s not enough hours in a day to do every thing that you need to do? I have that thought every single day.

Let’s take a look at the break down of my day.

At least 2 hours of total commuting time, to and from work/school.

9.5 hours in the office (without overtime).

3 hours of school after office hours.

At least 6 hours of sleep.

That leaves only 3.5 hours in a day to do everything else, like study, read notes, shower/eat. And people still think I have all the time in the world to do other things. Sure, school is only twice a week but accumulation of exhaustion is just as bad in the long run.

I need a time turner.


Why I’m Grumpy McGrumpyPants Today

First day of work after a long break, complete with experiments and shit.

First day of school. Classes started a week early due to the invited lecturer for the seminar series unit. I have classes every night this week, except Thursday. This totally disrupts my plan to spend more time with The Significant Other.

The Significant Other is leaving on Friday night. When I have class.

I have not had coffee or enough caffeine yet.

It's only after four and I'm starving. Again.


My Life, According To My Friends

In a recent dinner with old friends, I came to a conclusion that they don’t really understand me as well as they think they do.

I think that everyone forgets that in the decade or so since we first became friends, everyone developed different interests and hobbies. Different life experiences and people that we meet, changes us at least, just a little bit. It would be naive to think that one will remain the same as one’s seventeen year old self, even after more than a decade.

I don’t think that they understand why I love writing. It’s not something that is easily explained to someone who does not enjoy the writing process. For me, it’s like an itch that needs to be scratched every once in a while. Too many plot bunnies in the head makes life very distracting. It is also rather hard to explain to a non-writer why my written topics usually have a number of racy scenes. Everyone who writes has their own genre, be it crime/thriller, murder/mystery or sci-fi/fantasy. Mine just happens to be chick lit, with a pinch of unintended humour and a sprinkling or racy bits.

Another thing they do not understand is my interest in technological things. I like having Internet at home or with me when I’m out with my Mac. I can spend hours on the Internet. I like learning about new gadgets and if given a chance, to play with them.

All these things made them think that I’m a tech geek who writes pr0n. They said that I should go out hang out with normal people, what ever ‘normal people’ means.

Seriously, do they think me to have no life?

Just because I spend a lot of time on-line and happen to write in my free time, doesn’t make me a hermit or some strange creature that should be pitied and made fun of. I think I have more fun than they do.

I just wish that people do not make sweeping judgements over things they don’t or are unwilling to understand.