HOMECOMING

Page Unfolds - Rox

Just because no one else is going to do it, I'm rolling out the red carpet, spamming the confetti and generally making a big, shameless commotion about coming back to Miraclone. It's been almost a month void of a proper update (cryptic paragraphs hardly count. Plus, they annoy people.) so this one's going to try and graze the tippy top standards of what an actual post really is. Despite the fact that a definition of such remains sketchy and debatable, I say we settle on 'noun: a parade of photographs accompanied by remotely comprehensible verses.' And so we begin.

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1) Noel made me his Coffee Bean pal for a day, so we went down to the one at Rail Mall, a place that we have told ourselves TO DEATH that we should go to. It's always remained in this vague little bubble, a blur as our morning bus zips by its bus stop. So much so, we've developed a standard conversation template everytime we talk about it. This consists of one of us expressing a wild craving for smoked salmon and the other, in a patronizing voice, suggesting we go down to Coffee Bean at Rail Mall to have some.

So imagine our delirium when we finally had a concrete reason that get us off our 100-pound laurels to go down to the cafe. (Yes, our lives are this mundane.)

I got a cup of Earl Grey tea there. And when I asked if I could have it Iced, they told me that I couldn't. In attempted compensation, they proceeded to put on my tray a Venti-sized cup filled to the brim with ice chips. I was so confused, but took it anyway.

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2) Just before the holidays came to an abrupt end, FMSU threw this massive hullabaloo for five days and called it CAMP.

For the whole time that we've been marooned on Loft Island, my body has never been so receptive to the idea of camps. The initial intimidation of a 5 days/4 night camp was overwhelming, because I. AM. THE ANTI-CAMP. Thanks to a 4-year history of NPCC camps and its emotional scarring worth, I can't look at a green tarp without trying to tear it apart with my teeth.

That and, damn, I really don't like to shit in anything other than my own toilet.

But this was FMSU. These were the people who've been regurgitating their geniuses in front of me over the past few Mondays, and who I've been having overly extended breakfasts with, and the wide nets that catch my accelerated Redbull-fueled highs/hysteria, and who are in their own way, a bunch of superheroes, rockstars and wunderkinds. When you have people like this, it becomes drastically easier to loosen your grip on your 5 precious days of sweet, sweet holiday.

You're willing, even.

Every group got a booty-shakin' ghetto name hee hee hee














Was married to Dionel for, like, 2 seconds.





















I would like to end this purge of amazing photos with Jessica's Sex Face:


FUCK EPIC

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3) Got to listening to this delightful warbler named Rox. Apparently she was performing at TAB last night. She has a beautiful face and pipes to match. Click on the YouTube clip waaaaaaaay at the top of this post to hear her.

Two of the best things: British and SSSSSSSSouuuuuuuuulllll

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4) I quit work today, but I wasn't really allowed anywhere beyond the radius of one footstep from the house. Mom was playing all Singaporean Hostess to an Indonesian friend who's in town for the week.

(Just a random side note: I call her Tante Dewi and her house was where we'd crash and talk till late everytime we were in Jakarta. We haven't seen in each other in about a decade or so. Seeing her yesterday was all huggy and reunion-y. Very nice.

What upppppppp)

She took off pretty early in the morning and, with a twisted understanding of what food is, left a pack of uncooked scallops in the fridge.

"Cook it yourselves," she half-said, half-screamed while rummaging through the armoire for a bag to match her brown outfit. She fished out an eye-blindingly bright silver bag.

"Mom, that doesn't match," I pointed out, "What else is there to eat?"

"I don't know. There's chin chow. And I know [the bag doesn't match]. I cannot find anything else," she says this while standing, rather ironically, in plain view of a million other totes and clutches and purses. She then dumps whatever she thinks she needs into the bag and goes out the door.

"Scallops and chin chow?" I called after her.

The door closed.

{WHEN/HOW THIS BECAME A NARRATIVE, I HAVE NO IDEA.)

I then went to scour the pantry for anything passably edible. At this point, my stomach has peaked very suddenly and unusually in hunger levels. I put it down to the outright denial of proper feeding. Like how you're actually fine with not having something until someone gets in your face and tells you you can't have it at all, then you have this renewed tenacity focused on getting it. It's ferocious and, when it comes to looking for food, very, very ugly.

In the end, I found the chocolate crisps Mom got from IKEA the previous day. She had wedged them between the washing machine and the fridge for some absurd reason (something along the lines of how we always finish junk food in a day).

We get these babies every time we hit IKEA. They come in this gorgeous magenta box and are always stacked high at the Market Hall. The crisps taste like thick florentines (which I am an avid fan of) and there's a messy slab of chocolate sandwiched in between. Fat Points +99999999

Syaqif had them with leftover Caramel Eclair Chocolate ice-cream from the freezer.





And then it was a thorough recce through the fridge where I managed to pull together enough things for this!!!!!


Aglio Olio with Scallops and Mushrooms!!!!!!!


EXCUSE THE CORIANDER SPAM. I FUCKING LOVE CORIANDER.

Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiight after I switched off the stove, Rabani came bounding in in his NCC glory (oily and in green camo) and said he was hungry. Bloody Growing Boys. Flippin' whale appetites.

He got french toast with skinned apples on the side. WITH ONLY ABOUT 10000 SWIRLS OF BUTTERSCOTCH MAPLE SYRUP AND 500 FISTFULS OF CHOCOLATE DUST.


By the way, new rule when it comes to food: BREAKFAST FOOD IS ALSO ALL-DAY FOOD.

Yeah, pretty good food today. Managed to crawl into my room where I hid for the rest of the afternoon attempting homework but no, attempting to catch up on good tv shows but no. So I lighted some candles, put on the aircon and went all e-Hobo* for a while.

*E-hobo

adj. One who aimlessly wanders the world wide web, mindlessly hopping on to one page to the other through links on a page. It is not uncommon that he or she is in possession of vacant eyes and a slightly open mouth. Occasionally, drool is emitted from aforementioned mouth.

Look at me, all Web D studently~~~
♡♡♡