i'm back in the loop again. after about a week of solid food, nights out at mamak restaurants and chicken, the return of the instant noodle packet was inevitable. so, being the carefree shopper that i am [more on that later], a few days ago, i went to carrefour to misappropriate it legally of soy milk, orange juice [already finished] and 18 packets of tom yam flavoured maggi noodles [the best!] in 3 packs of 6 maggi packets. the plan was simple...eat 2 a day, allowing them to last over 6 days. not that hard, yea? yea. sure. new year's resolutions thrown out once again. i had 4 packets today. amidst the cries of maggi basically being poisonous to the system, not to mention being able to make you bald, i once again attempted to abuse my body and push it to its gastronomical limits. i guess that i'll pay the price of being hungry, but i was hungry, dammit, and it seemed like a wise thing to do. or else what? drive all the way, 25 minutes away just to have a plate of fried rice? well...i could've done it at the near-by chinese coffee shop, but i'm scared of ordering in chinese...can you blame me? i'm a banana [more on that later as well]. anyway, seeing how it was an evening well spent on playing football, i decided to have the maggi and i've just had an orange soda...not very smart. calculating it, i've basically amassed the same amount of kj loss while being physically active just now...which, in terms of a calorie count, equate to 0 calories loss or gained. i've broken even once again.
yes, the general idea is to lose weight, before you ask.
anyway, i'm scared of my consumption methods, maggi notwithstanding. i pay for a carton of orange juice, and it won't last through the night. and the thing is, the more willpower i put unto myself, the less i'm able to control myself. i realize that it's not cheap...but at the same time, i love it. it's not like in brazil, where we bought all we had since it was under the government's allowance to my dad [i'd love a perk like that], this is...well, MY money. ugh. not very smart, am i? the money factor is a bitch, really, but i'm getting used to it...i can't say that i'm broke, but all i really need now is some sort of job that pays well, has flexible hours and that i don't have to do much work for...so, let's see...i won't be the fry guy at mc d's, i can't be a barista at starbucks, and i don't think that i'll be able to work for my aunt as an office boy. i just wish there was a part-time job i could take up by sitting at my computer and being online for the whole day [internet and phone bill paid in full by the company, no less]. but i can only dream...and as far as i can see, i need more money for groceries. i love shopping, i really do.
look at the products of today...fruits wrapped in plastic, instant noodles, more packaged and microwavable items than ever...the passion of cooking, taking time and toiling and sweating for a great meal is now being killed in favour of convenience. we're losing the love in our consumption to the lack of time we have. then again, i guess it's just sloth kicking in overtime. when i go to work, and come back home, am i even going to eat? [damn...that sounds good]. am i going to have a nutritious breakfast prepared by myself which is full of vitamins and the essential vitamins [i sorta regret taking those days of being prepped by my parents for granted now...] which would last me through the day? am i going to have time to go to oliver's for a super sandwich which would tide me over during lunch to the end of the day? and what about overtime? as i peruse over reports, evaluate my department's action plans and develop carpal tunnel, am i going to even consider the passion of food? no. probably not.
it just comes to the point of concern: we're becoming more and more objective-focused. we can't let anything go wrong, because we're becoming well-oiled machines day by day...i would know, since i actually time and evaluate a full journey using public transportation to college. timing is going to be everything, being able to do the most in as little time as possible the main focus of working life. i'd probably grow bald soon from all the maggi i eat [though i hear that the bald look is the bomb with the ladies now]. hmph.
and speaking of food, i've been accused regularly of coming from the banana republic. and to make this short and sweet, i'm bloody proud to be able to at least speak some sort of coherent english, i'm proud that foreigners are impressed with the way i hold myself together and i'm proud of my ability to outtalk my father and outcrap my mother. people accuse me of not being chinese enough due to my lack of fundamental grasping of any dialect, and they also put it to my face that knowing the language is irrerevant and not irrelevant...i agree, but...do i care? do they know the history of china from the qin dynasty up to the hans? do they know which part of the mainland they're originally from? [my bloodline comes from the north...where?...i don't know]. my father once commented that i didn't know enough chinese to handle myself in a restaurant...i cussed back at him in hokkien. he proceeded to do the same in hakka. i reiterated my stand by doing it in cantonese. we had a good laugh. as far as i'm concerned, in my own ignorant view of it all, you only need cantonese to survive; there's nothing more you can do but to order food and cuss at people, trust me.
paolo once said that if [sic] ever got famous, that if we ever got intereviewed by the chinese press [an oddity, but anything's possible], they'd probably be forced to interview him than me, since he's even more chinky than i am, despite not being any chink at all. i took it as a compliment, but when i think about it...ah, what the hell.
the term "chink" isn't deragatory.
"superchink" may be, though.
i don't speak chinese much because i look down on anyone or because i'm some sorta ang mo raised chinese boy...it's basically because no one ever told me what to say, no one ever taught me how to speak, and those who did teach me how to speak were teaching a terribly unattentive student. and whenever i speak chinese, people tell me to go back to speaking english. hypocrites.
from shopping to eating to speaking.
this one's for you.
yes, the general idea is to lose weight, before you ask.
anyway, i'm scared of my consumption methods, maggi notwithstanding. i pay for a carton of orange juice, and it won't last through the night. and the thing is, the more willpower i put unto myself, the less i'm able to control myself. i realize that it's not cheap...but at the same time, i love it. it's not like in brazil, where we bought all we had since it was under the government's allowance to my dad [i'd love a perk like that], this is...well, MY money. ugh. not very smart, am i? the money factor is a bitch, really, but i'm getting used to it...i can't say that i'm broke, but all i really need now is some sort of job that pays well, has flexible hours and that i don't have to do much work for...so, let's see...i won't be the fry guy at mc d's, i can't be a barista at starbucks, and i don't think that i'll be able to work for my aunt as an office boy. i just wish there was a part-time job i could take up by sitting at my computer and being online for the whole day [internet and phone bill paid in full by the company, no less]. but i can only dream...and as far as i can see, i need more money for groceries. i love shopping, i really do.
look at the products of today...fruits wrapped in plastic, instant noodles, more packaged and microwavable items than ever...the passion of cooking, taking time and toiling and sweating for a great meal is now being killed in favour of convenience. we're losing the love in our consumption to the lack of time we have. then again, i guess it's just sloth kicking in overtime. when i go to work, and come back home, am i even going to eat? [damn...that sounds good]. am i going to have a nutritious breakfast prepared by myself which is full of vitamins and the essential vitamins [i sorta regret taking those days of being prepped by my parents for granted now...] which would last me through the day? am i going to have time to go to oliver's for a super sandwich which would tide me over during lunch to the end of the day? and what about overtime? as i peruse over reports, evaluate my department's action plans and develop carpal tunnel, am i going to even consider the passion of food? no. probably not.
it just comes to the point of concern: we're becoming more and more objective-focused. we can't let anything go wrong, because we're becoming well-oiled machines day by day...i would know, since i actually time and evaluate a full journey using public transportation to college. timing is going to be everything, being able to do the most in as little time as possible the main focus of working life. i'd probably grow bald soon from all the maggi i eat [though i hear that the bald look is the bomb with the ladies now]. hmph.
and speaking of food, i've been accused regularly of coming from the banana republic. and to make this short and sweet, i'm bloody proud to be able to at least speak some sort of coherent english, i'm proud that foreigners are impressed with the way i hold myself together and i'm proud of my ability to outtalk my father and outcrap my mother. people accuse me of not being chinese enough due to my lack of fundamental grasping of any dialect, and they also put it to my face that knowing the language is irrerevant and not irrelevant...i agree, but...do i care? do they know the history of china from the qin dynasty up to the hans? do they know which part of the mainland they're originally from? [my bloodline comes from the north...where?...i don't know]. my father once commented that i didn't know enough chinese to handle myself in a restaurant...i cussed back at him in hokkien. he proceeded to do the same in hakka. i reiterated my stand by doing it in cantonese. we had a good laugh. as far as i'm concerned, in my own ignorant view of it all, you only need cantonese to survive; there's nothing more you can do but to order food and cuss at people, trust me.
paolo once said that if [sic] ever got famous, that if we ever got intereviewed by the chinese press [an oddity, but anything's possible], they'd probably be forced to interview him than me, since he's even more chinky than i am, despite not being any chink at all. i took it as a compliment, but when i think about it...ah, what the hell.
the term "chink" isn't deragatory.
"superchink" may be, though.
i don't speak chinese much because i look down on anyone or because i'm some sorta ang mo raised chinese boy...it's basically because no one ever told me what to say, no one ever taught me how to speak, and those who did teach me how to speak were teaching a terribly unattentive student. and whenever i speak chinese, people tell me to go back to speaking english. hypocrites.
from shopping to eating to speaking.
this one's for you.
posted by funkyhippopotamus at
12:59:00 am
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