Of potatoes and kids

Went jogging for the first time in years today. I didn’t die. Guess I can do it again tomorrow. If I manage to shed my couch potato ways the Health Promotion Board should name me as its spokesperson.

But blah, I found to my horror that I can no longer cycle. After a night’s deliberation, I tried at my void deck, constantly embarrassed by the presence of passers-by. I still ram into walls. Not being able to cycle at the ripe old age of 21 is a joke. And I thought it’s one of those skills that never leave you once you’ve acquired it. I’m sad. I only jogged as it seemed a waste not to, since I was already perspiring from ramming into walls.

My sense of adventure (however warped) is inspired by the travelogue of Zhang Su Li, titled “A Backpack and A Bit Of Luck – stories of a traveller with no sense of direction”. Borrowed it yesterday and couldnt put it down. I simply need to do something with my life instead of vegetating into manure. Even manure has a use. I need to go out and happen to things, instead of waiting for things to happen to me.

Been teaching. Kids are so unconditioned by the evils of society they break my heart. The way they look at me, it’s as if they are giving their heart and soul to me whole, despite me being such a meanie teacher. A boy asked me to taste his handmade Filipino kueh. And he said:

“May I tell you something, Miss Poh?

“Yes” (sweetly- how can I not be sweet to him!?)

“Do you want me to tell you how to make it?”

“Didn’t you already tell me just now?”

“But do you still remember?”

“Uhh.. no…” (he totally rambled in his Filipino-accented English. I was so amused I didn’t really register anything!)

“Ok, I write down for you!”

And so I got:


It’s high time I abstain from blogging. An imaginary blog exists in my brain and I post entries there at least 20 times a day.


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