I just did a very stupid thing. Yesterday morning, I unplugged my mini-fridge to make way for a hairdryer that could save me the inconvenience of going out in the sub-zero cold with damp hair - and then, after blow-drying my hair and returning the hairdryer, I rushed out for classes and forgot to plug the fridge back in.
The happy state of affairs persisted until this morning, 24 hours after the event, when the horrible truth finally sank in and I had to scramble to salvage the situation. The casualties: one half-gallon carton of milk, unopened; one tub of soy yoghurt, unopened; one jar of previously-opened kaya that was probably way past its expiry date anyway. I threw out the kaya but kept the milk and yoghurt, because I'm exceedingly reluctant to give up on the hope that the milk and yoghurt might still be within the limits of safe for consumption. Maybe I'll test that hypothesis tonight, with a toilet at hand and no classes in the way.
words were spilled on Friday, January 26, 2007
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Sunday, January 21, 2007
| You Belong in Amsterdam |
 A little old fashioned, a little modern - you're the best of both worlds. And so is Amsterdam. Whether you want to be a squatter graffiti artist or a great novelist, Amsterdam has all that you want in Europe (in one small city). |
While I must confess a slight disappointment that it didn't turn out to be London, Amsterdam's not bad either. Except that I really can't envision myself as the pot-smoking, free-wheeling artistic type. If I lived in Amsterdam, I would probably be in canal management or something prosaic like that.
words were spilled on Sunday, January 21, 2007
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Thursday, January 11, 2007
While I was skimming through the weekly email newsletter The Economist sends me, I noticed the St. James Street address, which reminded me of the day when I was dragging my sister around the Westminster area being the, uh, specialist tourist. On our way to the Ritz (for fangirly gawking, not for dinner, alas), we passed through St. James Street, and I was absurdly delighted to spot the familiar red logo of The Economist. Seeing the address again brought on a pang of longing to be back in London, in the thick of the Covent Garden crowds, running around with map in hand, wandering narrow side-streets in the grey drizzle, getting ridiculously excited over the most obscure things, taking leisurely walks along the Thames and the Serpentine, enjoying West End theatrics and the company of people who are very special to me.
Here, what little company I have is uninspiring, the campus depressingly deserted and the very sunlight seems excessive and bland. Give me those blissful days in Europe again, bad weather and all.
words were spilled on Thursday, January 11, 2007
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Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Erm, yes I know I wasn't much of a travel reporter - aside from a very laconic-verging-on-uninformative photo post the update count was nil, but I plead lack of internet connection (which isn't entirely true - take a look at my fellow traveller Yuhui's blog for an excellent example of what a more energetic and internet-addicted mind can accomplish given the same resources).
I shall post something more substantial up eventually, once I get all my photos sorted out. Meanwhile, I have GREs, research and preparatory biochemistry reading to contemplate.
words were spilled on Wednesday, January 10, 2007
