Monday, September 26, 2005

Monday Blahs

It starts with unease.
The truth that mattered not – does.
Then so it shall be.


There ya go, vish. I love haiku!


And you. For when you can finally stomach a visit.

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Can one have too much of a good thing? Blek. Yes.

In Nigella we trust, but dear lady, 750gm of cream cheese?

Must. Not. Eat. Cheesecake.

Cheescake

For breakfast.

Especially not after butter crabs the night before.

My arteries must be coated.


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I’ve started re-reading one of the books that occupy the dust-trap that is my shelves. If you must know, it’s called Borrowed Time by Paul Monette. The book pays tribute to the author’s partner, who died in the eighties when the AIDS epidemic was naively being dismissed as just a “gay cancer”.

Within a few pages, I was reminded how writing is often under-appreciated for the craft that is. We all write on a daily basis…emails, memos, assignments, grocery lists, journals, blogposts and on the rarerest of occasions, a letter.

I myself will admit to sometimes shaking more than a few peacock feathers in my booty at the fancy that I can write. But all we’re doing, comparatively, is just making crumbly castles in the sandpit.

How humbling it is then to read words so expertly crafted yet honestly simple. How magical it is for a string of words to, when recited in one’s mind, raise a surprised bark of a belly laugh or evoke the need to savour, with closed eyes, the cadence as they tap on the secret doors of the alcoves of your heart.

Grief is one of the trickiest things to articulate without resorting to ululation. There is a tendency to go for a frenzied wail of violins when really, a lone cello would suffice. That’s why this book is going to take a long time to read. What with all the pauses to appreciate the cellist’s reflective solo.


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Enough with the literary wanking. In other news, I had beef carpaccio for lunch at Ciao, an Italian (duh) restaurant next to my office. For all its frighteningly scarlet rareness, the beef was strangely tasteless. Should have spent the stomach on the appetiser buffet instead. Hrrmph. Ah well…there’s still cheesecake for tea.

Oh, and how does one diplomatically NOT stare at what appears to be a screaming hickey? Certainly not by focusing instead on bloody slices of beef.

11 comments:

Anonymous said...

Who is the hickey on?? If it's a friend, why stare diplomatically when you can have a full fledge "Nyah,nyah,nyah...somebody has a HICKEY!!"*and pointing to the offending spot*

-BoobJuicer

Jay said...

I read a book called The Church of Dead Girls last year, and spent ages marvelling at the writing - clean and simple, yet very evocative.

Buttered crabs.... must have buttered crabs...

Tiffany L said...

oh no it's tuesday
another boring work day
help me live through this

haikus are wicked do not require much brain cells to compose.

and yes, butter crabs are wicked as well.. sigh...

lotsachi said...

yum...can i have a piece of your cake?

Wandernut said...

A haiku:
Cheesecake looks GORGEOUS,
Paddling in my saliva,
Must eat it or die.

And... AH-HAH!
It's YOU :)
Was kepoh-ing at my visitor stats and instead of a numeric ISP, StatCounter actually revealed the name of your company. Was wondering who it was. Now I know. Hyuk hyuk hyuk...

Spot said...

boobjuicer - hehehe...cannot lah. hehehe. blushing brides only blush at their weddings right? ;)

jay, hedo & lotsachi - all together now...droooooooool.

wandernut - ya lor! menyampahnya that the company name dipampang for all to see. fortunately, that's not the actual company i work for...we just tumpang their infra.

lotsachi said...

yeah yeah, we're sooooo drooling (let's do a syncronized one) from different parts of the globe. :P

AJ said...

I would lurve to point out the irony of a cow eating beef and finding it tasteless...so the cow eats cheese cake instead. But thats Sooo someting I would say!

I hate predictability....

Will said...

Ciao Ciao Ciao. The name sounds so familiar, and I can even picture the neon logo but I can't for the life of me remember where it is.

Anyway I know what you mean by literary handjobs. Sometimes I just pause and reread sentences to savour how people can think that up so superbly.

savante said...

Literary handjobs.. *tee hee*

I am still thinking of the cake.. why am I so hungry?

Paul

Spot said...

AJ - I wrote that specially with you in mind. Why, why didn't you take that invitation to tug my udders?

wingedman - it's on Tun Razak. Don't go, or you'll kill your ABquest just by looking at the appetizer buffet.

savante - you're in melaka, just go forth and eat a few jonker st satay for me!