I AM SO BAD AT JUGGLING.

That's why I can't juggle around multiple blogs. (For those who interested, I have 4 functional blogs; but only 2, including here, are in English.) There are people who just can deal with many, many blogs, and they are admirable.

There is a reason why I am called a Procrastinator Extraordinaire.

I am currently thinking what to make of my blogspot account. While I do that, please visit me at LiveJournal. (smiles)

And you thought binge drinking was bad.

I had a small bowl of chicken salad, a bar of Dimes, a small packet of Flying Saucers (am I the only one who bites at a saucer, tosses powdered sherbet in my mouth and discards the wafer?) and a packet of mini eggs.

After supper (that supper being a real supper - meaning, something cooked by my own hand from scratch)

I must resist this urgh to run to toilet, this desire to see them with mine own eyes once again. Must not be bulimic, must not be bulimic...


Actually, I won't be staring at my own blubber with sad, sad eyes if I just stopped being a vegetating organic mass and start exercising. I know that, damn your eyes!

To be at the whipping end of an Exploitation system.

My parents are coming to UK next week.

Am making a book list to buy using mum's credit card.

Will bring a suitcase to London.

Remember, buying books is an excellent thing (whether it be academic or not). Buying books with somebody else's money is just sublime (although technically all my money is somebody else's money.)

The Great Hope, and its Foundering.

I like making lists.

Books I wished to read but did not;

Canticle For Leibowitz by Walter M. Miller - I am disappointed with myself that I still did not get a chance to read this sci-fi classic. Oh wait, Amazon's doing a sale on it, should I buy it? (But having said that, my debit card was eaten by the cash machine in the weekends, so maybe later)

R. Dawkins Paper Harem Extravaganza - Ever since I rolled up for a course in Evolution and Behaviour, Dawkin's paper harem became textbooks, not light reads for holiday kill-joy. (Yes, that' what the Blind Watchmaker was for me) He may not be my favourite popular science writer, but it seems that'Bwidge expects me to read all his works, if my supplmentary reading list is any judge to go by. (I admit that he is good at what he does.)

Dune Messiah, Children of Dune, etc... by Frank Herbert - I've read Dune, I loved Dune, if they say I need to be exiled to one planet...wait, no, I don't want to go to Arrakis, but I feel very bad that I did not have a chance to read sequels of Dune for ages. I always forget whenever I go book-shopping. (Random Announcement: Please someone tell me whether the TV series is good or not)

Making Money by Terry Pratchet - Although my friend gave an interesting review on this installment of the Discworld series (to quote her; 'He must have been near the deadline with no inspiration, he just gathered up all Vetinari-fangirling fanfictions into a ball, paraphrased them and bound them to a book'), it has been nagging my subconscience for ages. It's not because I am a Vetinari fangirl (shush).
Amazon is also doing a sale on this one. Come back, my darling card!


Books I did not wish to read but did anyway;

Ergh, I don't have enough time and budget to read books I want to read.

Happy (belated) New Year!

Nope, no new year's resolution for me. I'm too cool lazy for that.

Back to work....(HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELP!!!)

Atlantic (and sorta Far East) Invasion

My sister was shipped from the city of Sex and the City to entertain me with her rising AP crisis (ergh, when I've got so much work?) during this crucial festive time and be my dish-washing slave for the week *cackles most evilly*.


I was hoping to feed her with good, no-nonsence, and distinctly British food. The previous sentences all culminates to Christmas Pleasures which she won't ever be able to have had she stayed at the other side of the pond to get lost in the jungle of Manhattan, especially Sainsbury's bakery mince pie, which may be a bit tacky but still managed to trap me in livid daydreaming wet-drool-dreams for the whole week. Yes, Christmas means food and only food (and good carol singing) to me, the ever-gluttonous Agnostic. The list also includes Ploughman's lunch (which I get massive, unstoppable, unbeatable cravings for about every year, and am now in heat), marmite (to see her reaction), baked beans on toast, full English breakfast, chicken tikka masala, and other British food I thrive in. I close my eyes and momentarily paw after phantom Branston's pickle.

Alas, that is not to be. She wants to pretend she's back home, which I can heartily understand, but that means she demands full cuisine of home food. Meaning; more works on my part. Rice needs to be cooked, soups needs to be made, meat marinated, dumplings conjured up, and more bicycle raids to Mill Road. Not that I don't like home food, I will wither and die without a steady input of them. I just fancy she will accept one or two meals where I don't have to watch over three pots at once. (Little Voice Inside Brain: Pickles! Cheddar! Toast! Butter! Honey! Tea! Pickles! Cheese! Butter! Crusty Bread! *repeats infinitum*)

No, I don't trust her around the kitchen, unless it be around the sink for washing-up.

I swear to you, on Christmas day I will feed her with mince pies.

= = = = = =

The Evil Drudgery Work Progress: STILL 0%. I'm starting to have a problem. Someone needs to hit me around the head asap.

And here I give you a quote.

"I can believe things that are true and I can believe things that aren't true and I can believe things where nobody knows if they're true or not. I can believe in Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny and Marilyn Monroe and the Beatles and Elvis and Mister Ed. Listen — I believe that people are perfectible, that knowledge is infinite, that the world is run by secret banking cartels and is visited by aliens on a regular basis, nice ones that look like wrinkledy lemurs and bad ones who mutilate cattle and want our water and our women. I believe that the future sucks and I believe that the future rocks and I believe that one day White Buffalo Woman is going to come back and kick everyone's ass. I believe that all men are just overgrown boys with deep problems communicating and that the decline in good sex in America is coincident with the decline in drive-in movie theaters from state to state. I believe that all politicians are unprincipled crooks and I still believe that they are better than the alternative. I believe that California is going to sink into the sea when the big one comes, while Florida is going to dissolve into madness and alligators and toxic waste. I believe that antibacterial soap is destroying our resistance to dirt and disease so that one day we'll all be wiped out by the common cold like the Martians in War of the Worlds. I believe that the greatest poets of the last century were Edith Sitwell and Don Marquis, that jade is dried dragon sperm, and that thousands of years ago in a former life I was a one-armed Siberian shaman. I believe that mankind's destiny lies in the stars. I believe that candy really did taste better when I was a kid, that it's aerodynamically impossible for a bumblebee to fly, that light is a wave and a particle, that there's a cat in a box somewhere who's alive and dead at the same time (although if they don't ever open the box to feed it it'll eventually just be two different kinds of dead), and that there are stars in the universe billions of years older than the universe itself. I believe in a personal god who cares about me and worries and oversees everything I do. I believe in an impersonal god who set the universe in motion and went off to hang with her girlfriends and doesn't even know that I'm alive. I believe in an empty and godless universe of causal chaos, background noise, and sheer blind luck. I believe that anyone who says that sex is overrated just hasn't done it properly. I believe that anyone who claims to know what's going on will lie about the little things too. I believe in absolute honesty and sensible social lies. I believe in a woman's right to choose, a baby's right to live, that while all human life is sacred there's nothing wrong with the death penalty if you can trust the legal system implicitly, and that no one but a moron would ever trust the legal system. I believe that life is a game, that life is a cruel joke, and that life is what happens when you're alive and that you might as well lie back and enjoy it."

from Neil Gaiman's 'American Gods'. Enjoy.