Evolution of Blueberry Pancakes

I thought I might add this anachronistic bit before I return to my more recent happenings here in London.

2009 February 13/14:  I lied awake engrossed in conversation about my friend’s position on the fallacy of marriage.  I offered my two cents, mostly in opposition, and then withdrew without any hope that we would meet somewhere in the middle.  Although, strictly from behavioural patterns, I believe his stance might reflect a self-affirmation account of the negative experiences underlying his fear-induced marital theories.  When the clock stroke 12, Valentine’s Day greeted me with heart pangs of grief to the point where I could no longer talk on the phone.  Shortly after, I collected myself then drove to my mom’s place as I had planned to surprise her with blueberry pancakes, which I never practiced before.  I stood in line at Vons, admiring the simple, loving husbands and boyfriends around me who frantically sought out last-minute flowers and chocolates at 6 AM.  When I arrived, home, my dad was already awake reading the morning paper.  “Hi Dad. Happy Valentines Day.  I’m going to make pancakes.”

“haha OK”  My poor dad, I think I interrupted my Dad’s morning routine; I could make out his tummy grumbles through the newspaper ruffles.  It took me awhile to get the pancakes down.  The visual account is far more telling:

Subjected to a mini-pan (since mom hides large, new pan in her room from dad to prevent another from falling victim to his negligence)



I know I can be pretty fruity (no pun intended) at times, but I swear the blueberries arranged themselves like this in the pan)


Not too shabby, ey?  (for the 18th try)- Dad's breakfast plate

Realized I forgot syrup, so I melted some sugar, not realizing that it would crystallize and form a hard, candied pancake.  (mom's set of pancakes and punctured overeasy.  She ate it nevertheless with an unforgettable, most rewarding, beaming smile.




I intended on going home to finish painting midday, but didn’t quite make it home until the evening time because I took a nap (seeing that I hadn’t slept yet) then reconciled differences with my friend on the phone for a little while.  He put my life and our differences in perspective that gave me a sense of peace.  Timing is a sensitive, crucial element in relationships of any sort.  I finally acknowledged that my response system needed some rewiring in regards to friendships and more than friendships.  “That’s it!” Through this conversation, I realized not THE cause per se, but a strong reason for my keen ability to repel men at the flip of the friendship switch.  I’ve always wondered why the dynamics change so quickly when my friendships evolved into relationships in the past.  And now I know...well, I know one part has a whole lot to do with me.  Sometimes you just need that one sentence to flip your world upside right.  I’m so lucky that I know now; might reduce my chances of leading a forever spinster life.  Though, the idea is much more attractive then the alternative—marrying the “wrong” guy for convenience purposes. Bleh, yah right.  I’m telepathically exerting loads of pressure on my sister to get married, so I may release these maternal urges on her children. 

Anyway, I spent the evening with my friend eating pizza, drinking wine, and playing with my new handheld HD camcorder.  Considering the early events of the day, i ironically spent the evening doing exactly what I had always imagined it should be like--wine, food, comforting company.  I couldn’t ask for a better conclusion to Valentine’s Day.       8]


If one thing’s for sure, I’m on the road to making the best niuroumian in the world, if not Universe.   I’m open to constructive criticisms of any sort.  8]


Watched a hilarious musical called Avenue Q last night with friends. http://www.avenueqthemusical.co.uk/#/home/  One of the most entertaining spoofs on modern life in the US, and I imagine, the UK.  The only show I know of where you can watch muppet-like dolls do it.  Such a pity I was fighting to stay awake near the end.. cuz of jetlag. 

The spare room I’m staying in at my friend’s place is easy to stay in all day.  The plush mattress is topped with a Swedish foamish layer, pillow is the same memory foam material, double down comforters; gorgeous open windows, private restroom..  I have to pry myself out of the bed to make the most of this London experience.  Doesn’t help the kitchen is stocked with everything one needs to feel complete—breads, cheeses, wine, tea, vegetables, fruit, etc..
 
I awoke again at the ungodly hour of 6 AM.  3 more hours gosh darnnit!  Trying to sleep relatively “normal hours” to fight this exhausting jetlag.  I spent the remaining hours searching through possible temp job opportunities in Barcelona, Madrid, and even Sydney!  Ahhh, the sky's the limit!  More difficult to make a decision this way.  I’m hoping to land a waitressing job in Tuscany, English tutoring position in Barcelona, or whatever might find me.  Hehehehheheeeeeee.  Choices, choices.. so many choices!  Though I think Spain is the top choice right now since I want to learn Flamenco and salsa dancing badly.

The sky is so lovely, bright, blue today.  Who said that London’s gloomy?  Gloomy mood begets gloomy skies.  Cheer up!  I’m excited to leggings up and coat on to begin my day at Barrel Market  near the London Bridge for lunch with friends. 

Cooking-food-at-home culture is highly addictive.  I didn’t grow up with homemade food, so perhaps that’s why I relish the opportunities i come across to learn cooking techniques from friends and try them on my own.  It’s most gratifying to watch people enjoy something you made.. even hear constructive criticisms.  KK and his "gf" made eggs benedict yesterday morning, from scratch, save the english muffin.

There was always food in the fridge growing up.  My mom or dad, or mom and dad, would do the groceries on Sundays, only, no one really cooked the items.  I think it was out of protocol or something to have food readily stocked in the food in case anyone learned how to piece the parts together.  My parents were always working growing up, so we usually ate out.  But I’ve always loved cooking. Never did it well, but Im grateful for all those Thanksgiving meals my family members lovingly struggled to swallow to express their gratitude for my efforts.  When I was in elementary, I baked an apple pie from scratch, that I, of course, dared not to eat, but my mom, being my biggest fan, humored me with a few fork fulls.  Then I baked a cake that smelled of rotten feet.  If you didn’t have a sense of smell, you’d think it was the most perfect, smooth dessert.  Then I baked a turkey that looked advertisement worthy on the outside, tho a bloody mess on the inside.  Then I  learned how to make semi-homemade pasta from my naturally talented brother.  Still remember the recipe, will try it again someday.  Then from my grandmother, I made stewed fish.  Got all the right cooking-ware for the process, didn’t turn out quite the same.  Fast forward, I was blessed with a succession of boyfriends and inbetweeners who could have easily been million-star chefs.  Men who taught me the principles of bak choi, chili, stuff that I can’t pronounce or remember (but certainly can remember the tastes), or who patiently explained to me why setting the stove on HIGH didn’t cook, but destroyed food faster. 

Then I learned how to make niuroumian.  I found myself in niuroumian.  My favorite child-adulthood food on this entire planet, if not universe.



Received this from Ed and Roger this morning:


And here is my response..



I really have to go, I’m so late.  I’m becoming European already.  8]


(I’ll edit this entry later, so bear with me)


I'm falling in love with London again..

If only human love was like this. You know, fall in love nearly instantly, the sort that doesn’t change with distance.. then when you return, all those comfortable, familiar, loving feelings come flooding back.  It’s the best feeling in the world.

I intended on going swimming today among the blokes, but couldn’t quite move my body this morning.  I have heavy jetlag—sleeping at 5 AM, awaking at 8 AM, napping at 3 PM, awaking at 6 PM.  I’m going to wait for my clock to stabilize, hopefully by tomorrow, before I put on my sightseeing glasses.  Today I made beef stew noodles!  Got my phone unlocked, negotiated and was ultra successful this time!  Bargained with the phone guy to unlock my phone from 15 pounds, to 10.  Someone at the Orange carrier store told me the ballpark was about 10-15 pounds to unlock your phone.  The first phone guy asked for 20, so I went to the next shop to work my magic.  Wow, what a confidence booster.  I usually settle for a price higher than the tag; I’m useless.  Utterly, utterly, useless.  

Read a little, napped a little, cooked a little, walked a little, ate a lot of chocolate (INCLUDING APOSTROPHE HOT COCOA!!!), errands, etc.

I have loads of video footage, but it takes eons to upload; so I'll alternate with good ol' digital pix here and there.

Apparently, Britons aren’t too fond of Miss Posh Spice here because she’s “stupid.”  They call her “Essex trash?”  I’m assuming the phrase is akin to ‘trailer trash” in the states.  One of Kristof’s friend took some time to explain how stupid she really is, quoted a few lines she said to substantiate his position, such as, “I broke up with my mechanic boyfriend, because you know, I can just like purchase a beemer, why would I be with a mechanic?” at the onset of her fame.. notoriety.  So she went to LA to “reinvent” herself.  Reinvent? More like blend in.  It’s not unusual to feel out of place.

Last night, before the dinner party, I ate a subway sandwich.  There, god, I said it.  I ate a gosh darn subway sandwich in London.  I couldn’t help myself, I was sooo hungry, and it was the only place in the vicinity that was open.  OK fine, party foul.

Long, wool, double-breasted coats, clean-shaven facial hair, and nicely groomed head hair is a recipe tasty enough for any girl to fancy.

Recession allows you to reevaluate your life.  What would you have done with all those hours?  Read a little bit more, hike up this mountain, travel to visit this friend, spend time with grandparents?  I suppose now is the time to do it.  Money comes, money goes, money plateaus, money grows.  Wow, I’m a poet.  Wish they would publish/broadcast the positive light of things.  I think anyone with half a wit knows we’re in a recession, no need to repeat thyself like a nagging Chinese mom.  

Crying babies and inconsiderate coughers

are ones you want to avoid on the airplane at all costs.  But, really, how often are you given a choice? I think I have exceptional luck at selecting the million-dollar seats.  Behind me sat the former and to my left, the latter.  I think the take off pacified the crying baby, but the same couldn't be said about the inconsiderate poop that wouldn't for the life of him close his d*mn mouth. Disgusting. Apparently, he's a sophomore at LMU, who decided to take a personal vacation to London then Switzerland, return home for spring break, then head to Cabo. Education, at its best. Clearly, school doesn't teach you everything... Rather, parenting goes a long way; or lack thereof. I drank plenty of OJ on the plane to fuel my immune system and it has, knock on solid wood, helped me so far. Anyway, it was my first time on Virgin Atlantic, and beyond the minor nuisances, I had a most pleasant transatlantic plane ride. Service was exceptional, lighting made my skin appear smooth, food was decent, accents were charrrrming, and entertainment selection was quite eclectic. Can’t complain. 8]

I arrived at Heathrow approximately 10 hours later and then was “detained” at the passport counter for about 15 minutes. I was interrogated with all sorts of stupid questions. Giving them the benefit of the doubt, I believe the purpose of their drilling me was to assess my answering ability.  Little do they know that I’m more nervous when I tell the truth. So I passed with flying colors.

What sparked the inundation was that I doltishly replied, “I’ll be staying here for 6 months.” At this, they raised an eyebrow. Maybe I shouldn’t have worn all black. They proceeded to ask financial, familial, academic questions. I was waiting anxiously for the more corporeal ones, but maybe I was too convincing with the earlier ones, so they didn’t get to touch on those questions. They even asked me “do you know how to get to your friend’s place.” I said “yes,” but given my telling expression, I maybe as well ought to have saved the muscle exertion and said, “no.” He then asked, “tell me how to get there.” good god. So I rummaged through my backpack to pull out a folded sheet of paper printed with a google map of my friend’s neighborhood and directions I printed from London's transportation planner website.

I explained the following:

1. Proceed to the Heathrow Express
2. Transfer to Circle line
3. Exit N..




OK OK, you can stop. I got it.


My friend’s roommate said she was detained for a few hours along a few more suspect-looking ones. They thought she fit the profile for a drug trafficker—blond hair, fur coat, shades. I suppose they now look for “normal” people. Which is efficient, really. Given the recession, they’re also extra wary of people working under the table. All that said, I’m more comfortable with the long, tedious questioning, than none at all.

But lame.. I have a “special” stamp in my passport that in 10 years, I’ll laugh about; just not when I leave the country.

I love London. This is why London culture is so efficient and effective. At the train station was a man preaching lord-knows-what; but he was nevertheless preaching. On came a recording on the intercom, “do not give money to beggars to encourage begging. Do not give money to beggars to encourage begging.” When the “preaching” didn’t stop, a man came on the intercom and said, “This is a customer service representative. Do NOT PREACH on our PLATforms. I repeat, Do NOT PREACH on our PLATforms.” The preaching immediately ceased, and then the whole audience erupted in laughter.

I have 50 lb luggage. There aren’t any elevators in the tube stations. I lugged my bag up 3 large flights of stairs. Fortunately, I was lucky to have kind female and male Britons who lent me their helping hands on all three occasions.

Finding my way to my friend’s place was easy, though not without skepticism. My friend was away at a squash lesson, so I was on my own. Thank God the transportation directions and google maps were precise.

Le Relais de Venise: Went here for dinner the first night with a different friend and his friends for French steak and chips (French fries). It was a set menu which included a refreshing salad, as well as two servings of steak and chips. We supplemented the course with red Bordeaux and a dessert that I cannot pronounce for the life of me—about 7 or 8 crème puffs with vanilla ice-cream fillings smothered in melted chocolate.

Naturally, we went to a pub afterwards where I nearly passed out after the first few sips of wine.

I returned home and slept until 1 PM the next day.

Began my afternoon with Kristof’s homemade bread with goat cheese

Took a two-hour jog in Hyde Park. Got a little lost..

Somewhat helped prepared for Kristof’s dinner party—cooked bok choi, taste-tested rice. K made baked sebring fish? With seasoned rice, bok choi, followed by plentiful swiss chocolates, baked bread and blue cheese, and haagen-dazs ice-cream and sugar cones with flaky chocolate sticks.

I hope to purchase a sim card tomorrow, explore more of London’s gifts, and make it to Apostrophe for melted chocolate aka hot cocoa.

Anyway, enough with stupid information. I leave you with my greetings from Le Relais de Venise in London.



My friend, Cookie, got me a hand held video cam that shoots in HD to video blog my travels. Therefore, I must put it into good use.













Here's another video I just uploaded,  I need learn how to extend my arm to avoid focusing on my oily forehead. 

http://thisiswhyyourefat.com/

Was about to catch up with stuff I saved for last minute, until caffeineguy  referred me to this link 10 minutes ago.

You know why I love walking to destinations?  Because you catch the quirks in passersby--pure entertainment--which would otherwise go unnoticed in your car.  Today, I witnessed a man howl like a wolf.  It was a full moon.  Coincidink?

OK I have a lot to do before I leave next Monday.  But I'm still googling random topics.  I miss the net.  Need to respond to a few things, but will do it slowly but surely!  First thing's first.. going to continue surfing through the pix on www.thisiswhyyourefat.com 





Close your eyes

and i'll kiss you, tomorrow i'll miss you; remember i'll always be true..

and while i'm away, i'll write down every day, and i'll send all my loving to you!!!!!  8D 

London, here I come!

I'm eating watermelon with salt right now and it's making me really happy.

Wasn't too happy with myself when I thought about how much I spent at KB last night.. > a benjamin.  So I've decided to take a break from kb festivities for awhile and revert to vino. I've been he'ing jiu a tad too much lately.  I wanted to take my friend, Batman, out for dinner since he's only in LA until Sunday before he return to NYC.  But, he couldn't make dinner because traffic was outrageously heavy, so I met up with him in the evening.

On top of that, Batman said that I xi yen now way too much and wants me to curb my intake.  That was something significant, cuz if Batman says that, considering he's a regular xi yener himself, then that must mean I'm over the top. 



Left my car at Uni's place, and I think i'm going to walk there to pick it up.  I don't want to go to the gym, so I think I will walk, it's a pleasant walk once u pass the freeway.  If I'm on the verge of dying, I'll just hop onto a bus.  8]       
Going to dinner with a friend tonight!  Woohoo!  More food in here please (points to belly).  It's not a problem, it's a hobby. 8]

As I started to peel off my soaking wet bottoms

I heard a voice, “Well, look at that, I didn’t think you had breasts! Ha-ha-ha!”  Stunned, I pulled my swimsuit suit piece back up and turned around to meet her jeering gaze, “Well, I thought you were a beached whale, so that makes us even.”  “Hmph!” she walked away.  "That was random," I thought to myself.  I continued where I left off then headed towards the showers. 

When I turned around to wash the soap out of my hair, I was greeted by overweight, manifold layers of fat, rendering the point between her back and buttocks indistinguishable.  Great. I continued rinsing while feeling sympathetic for those pudgy little fingers struggling to reach the area I assumed was her back.  That little bar of soap’s not going to be enough, I thought to myself.  Suddenly, she turned around and caught my gawking at her; she proceeded to brandish that pudgy finger at me and said, “You Orientals need to learn a thing or two about respect! In this countr--”  That’s when I raised my right arm and yelled, “FREE WILLLLYYY!

I returned to my locker before she could contrive another insulting retort, well, more so because I feared her paunch’s wrath.

You know, I would normally never poke fun at anyone's physical appearance what-so-ever, because given the opportunity, people could have a million and one things to say about me.  But his woman was not human; she was a flagrantly rude devil with an ugly personality.  Anyway, that was kinda mean.  Admittedly, on both ends.  She started it. 

So all that happened after I swam a few laps in the pool.  I think I have swimmer’s cold now cuz I’ve gots the sniffles! 
caffeineguy
I have to get ready now before my friend, Batman, scoops my bottom up for some fun loving games.  Then it’s happy hour with girlfriends, then I’ll decide what to do from there.

Enjoy your Friday!



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