Of non-meat, treated meat and chest meat

It's everywhere. Anywhere I turn, I see, read or hear people trying consciously to eat more healthily and be more aware of their food source. Many are either abstaining from meat, are vegans or raw foodies. My admiration for them is undeniable. The commitment and the determination to be green despite having to constantly deal with weird looks from waiters and strangers and having to explain time and time again the reason behind it, all requires immense strength. It is especially difficult when family members, friends or partners do not understand why the sudden drastic change of diet. Hence, hats off to these brave souls!

Having said that, I am probably one of those sad unconverted, an almost-extinct species which is adamant in chomping down high fat, high protein, highly processed food and succumbing wilfully to food cravings while shoving the thought of diet-related diseases to the dark dusty alley of my mind. I am such a fast food junkie that I need my shot of burgers, fries, nuggets on a regular basis to obtain that sugar high, no matter if it is a placebo effect or not. Yes yes, it is all quite contradicting to my recent obsession of getting rid of cottage cheese skin. But I obstinately cling to the outdated motto: live to eat.

Speaking of imperfect body, I finally watched Atonement the other day. A vision of green, Keira Knightly was absolutely stunning in her flowing emerald charmeuse. What affected me most was seeing a celebrity unafraid and unabashed to flaunt her flat chested state to the public. It's a rather refreshing sight as opposed to the now-accepted norm of huge breasts and cleavages. I must say I, as a fellow flat chested sista, feel somewhat comforted and reassured by her courage. Being flat chested has never been as celebrated as the well-endowed, causing some females to feel inadequate and less feminine. Even a definition for such a seemingly innocent term whiffs of prejudice, 'A chest in which the anteroposterior diameter is less than the average.' We just can't please everyone now, can we?

Photo credit: here

Feeling the summery mood despite the scorching heat

Summery weather calls for sunny colours. Not too long ago, I chanced upon a cheerful medley of nail colours in a fashion magazine (not unsimilar to the one below) and I've been musing ever since if I would be bold enough to pamper my pallid nails with these pretty hues. The purposeful musing seems eager to end its job when I caught myself searching for pops of colours in the little beauty compartment in the bathroom and found none! I am really an earth tone person. That immediately ensued a mental note to self to get some new shades in the stores. Alas! It appears I will soon fall victim to yet another fashion fad. Not ungrudgingly though, if I may add.

Photo credit: here


 

Highlights of the day

Headlining the technical front: iOS5

Finally dug out the dusty dinosaur that is our rusty laptop, started up the squeaky machine and crossed our wrinkled fingers the upgrade would work. It did and we could finally start breathing again. I need time though to get acquainted with some of the new features. But for now, I am quite excited about the iMessage.

Headlining the writing front: A stab in the heart

With the upgrade, several drafts saved in a blogging app meant for submission all vanished into thin air. Hours of mental labour and best efforts to squeeze out from my heart colorful lyrical words which faintly smell of publishable worthiness. All wiped out in the name of convenience, comfort, fast and faster.

Oh, my bleeding heart! Thou shalt not ache because thou wilt write anew!

Pep talk to myself

The head was groggy from the nap and I was busy wiping the sleep from my eyes when the electrifying rejection jumped at me, stupefying me into a brief wide-awakeness which immediately dissipated once I've registered the blow. I slumped. For a while, I couldn't seem to shake the cobwebs off my head.

His exact words were, 'The premise here doesn't reel me in enough.' As much as it's his kindest rejection so far, it still feels like a punch in the face and deflates the ever shrinking ego. Not that it's unexpected. In fact, I'm rather spot on that I would receive a reply today and it's most probably going to be a no. The silver lining is he has at least read the whole piece from start to end and thankfully it no longer belongs to the this-is-not-a-good-fit category. I like to think it's a positive far cry from my very first crap piece which I suspect the editor didn't even bother to finish reading after the first sentences and of course it wasn't a good fit, as he called it.

Ok, I am groping wildly for a lifeline, however fragile it may be, to keep the pride afloat in this rough and challenging waters. Lately, I cant help but imagine the editors wondering perplexingly to themselves, 'Who the hell is this unknown who incessantly spams my inbox with her less-than average submissions?' They, friends included, may think I have, for want of a better word, overestimated my own abilities (不自量力). And they could be right. Like you, I am just a mere mortal who suffers from emotional insecurities every now and then and who cares immensely about how other people perceive me.

While these emotions are very real and I will not try to repress them and pretend they do not exist, it is also vital that I do not hand them any chance to shackle my feet and to prevent my recovery from the smallest defeat and from moving forward with my dreams.

No, I will not give up.

The banality of a couch potato

The summer sun is relentlessly bright. It illuminates things meant to be hidden in the dark dusty closet, things meant not to see the living daylight. Things such as yellow-hued jellying flabbiness that is cellulite-infested thighs and sagging belly skin.

Donning a pair of shorts or bikinis requires a well of courage these days. My braveness surprises me despite being dreadfully conscious of my involuntary scantily clad state. Dispirited aside, I just have to get off my wobbly butt and go on the offensive. I am my own knight in my shining orange peel armour.

The punishment for an overdue workout? Sore achy muscles. The reward, a cup of hot coffee and a piece of leftover muffin to starve away the post workout hunger, while watching a rerun of The Big Bang Theory.

It's a quiet yet fulfilling afternoon without the little one for a couple of hours.

Signs and symptoms of Compulsive Addiction - Online Shopping

1. Neglecting your responsibilities
The poor child has been eating the same tasteless porridge, insipid stir fried meat and veg for lunch everyday and retches at the mere mention of the word porridge.

2. You've built up a tolerance
More dosage is progressively needed to experience the same high.

3. Withdrawal symptoms
Restlessness, spacing out, shaking, depression...

4. Life revolves around the addiction
A lot of time is spent using and thinking about it and figuring out how to obtain it.

5. Incessant need for money or unexplained financial problems
Every addiction is expensive.

6. Unexplained change in personality and attitude
Lying without batting an eyelid about the real reason being online and over justifying the act when the cover is blown.

5. Secretive and suspicious behaviours
Hiding spoils and bills from the man of the house.

6. Appears fearful, anxious and paranoid
That spoils and bills will be discovered.

7. Improvement of physical appearance
Is self-explaining.

I am not in the mood

Most people think Capricorns lack a sense of humour. If we unexpectantly possess it, it is often dismissed as oddball humour which very few will get it. And even when these people do catch on, we most probably won't see them die laughing.

So what am I, a true blue Capricorn going to do about that? Rather than meekly accepting my innate talentlessness, I am striving to be suicidal and write humourous pieces, killing readers (if any) and editors (if they bother to finish reading) softly but surely with my murderously boring writing. And that would be so funny!!!

See. I told you. You won't be able to get this dry sense of humour. I did warn you.

Why the sudden inspiration to try to be facetious when I am not? I can't say this enough to drum it into my unfunny self: to get out of my comfort zone!

What Jack White said really resonates with me:

Inspiration and work ethic — they ride right next to each other…. Not every day you’re gonna wake up and the clouds are gonna part and rays from heaven are gonna come down and you’re gonna write a song from it. Sometimes, you just get in there and just force yourself to work, and maybe something good will come out.

That perhaps has very little to do with my disturbed determination to be witty. But it certainly drives home the point that I have to force myself to work and not, as Tchaikovsky said, "... fold my hands on the pretext that I am not in the mood."

If the mountain goat in me truly aims to reach that mountain top, I will need to be rid of the slothful vice.

Not exactly the best game plan

I have been busy hurling myself out there, expecting at the same time to get chewed up so thoroughly that there isn't any morsel left of my dignity. I have been spared so far and am tapping my still positive feet while holding my breath.

I even invited friends to pick me apart just so I could improve. Though more importantly so that I could get used to the criticism. Other than imparting me with wiseness, experience and insight (you know who you are), none has risen to occasion. They are all too kind and I can't help but love them for that.

The reality is it's a ruthless world out there and I do not have stars (or dollars) in my eyes. The warpaint has been airbrushed and the armour deployed. I am ready to battle.

High street fashion

The pin stripes injected a faint sense of sartorial elegance to the otherwise casual baggy pants that I couldn't tear my eyes away from the charming salesgirl who was donning it. Despite her petite frame, she carried off the big pants in an understated grace. I was instantly sold, without pausing to think for a moment whether my androgynous body which lacks sorely in height would be drowning in those resplendent bagginess.

And then the mirrors in the fitting room cheated. I delusively thought the reflection was a manifestation of my newly-discovered fashion icon. The purchase was thus gleefully made.

The enlightenment revealed itself in the guise of harsh white light and a true mirror. I was struck speechless for I looked very much like this:

Photo credit: here

Idly Idling Idler

The question is:

To do something I absolutely detest for the sake of keeping the stagnant mind occupied;

To bide my time to demonstrate my abilities while letting the mind idle further; or

To have jam-packed days to keep the lazy mind busy while bidding my time to demonstrate my abilities?

The answer is crystal clear.

Photo credit: here