October 8th, 2012

Charah coffee

Pretty flowers.

I had a pretty good Sunday. I met up with my Singaporean friend and his friends from his hall at Brick Lane, which is this lane somewhere near Liverpool Street that is pretty famous, though I'm not really sure what for. In any case, there are apparently food fairs happening every Sunday with lots and lots and lots of people sitting by the curb and eating their food. I walked like 20 minutes to Brick Lane from my place, using Google maps on my phone to navigate obviously; and when I reached, I was so hungry that I went for the food stall with no queue. It was an Indian curry stall. I orderd rice with spinach curry potato and some chickpeas thing; and I was so hungry that I barely noticed how mild the curry was.

I followed the group to this random flower market on Columbia Road, which is about 5 or 10 minutes away from Brick Lane. When we went there the market was in the midst of closing so I didn't get to see much. Still, the flowers and plants for sale there were dirt cheap; I couldn't help but think about my mom when I was there and how much she would've loved it.











I also saw this by the road side literally out of nowhere:





How cute.

*

I had dinner with some Chinese people in my accommodation. I was a bit lost and confused because a lot of them spoke Cantonese half the time but it was pretty okay. I don't really care how racist this sounds, but I'm still more comfortable around Chinese/Asian people than non-Chinese/Asians. I guess that's not really a huge surprise considering I spent my whole life in Asia. Still, that's not saying I'm uncomfortable around non-Asians; I'm really loving meeting all sorts of people from everywhere. It's been really fun. And I still don't miss home.

I'm going to school later on even though I'm not taking any classes on Monday, just to sit in on this International Law of Refugees Rights or whatever class, just because I have nothing to do.

In other news, I finally bought some food for cooking in my room. I finally cleaned up some of the mess, and I finally changed my bedsheets. My room looks so much better now:





I have a shitload of laundry to do.

And the place I'm living in is still a shithole, especially after I've seen the LSE hall in Liverpool Street and where my friend Denise is staying (5 minutes away from Westminster bridge, omg). I really hate this area, but oh well. Too bad.

*

Yeah I don't feel like writing.

I'm going to bed now.

PS. For the record, I did not use Instacrap and similar applications on these pictures. These were edited using PHOTOSHOP.
Charah coffee

(no subject)

I finally got off my lazy ass and cooked a meal today. Well, technically, I didn't really cook the whole thing; I bought some pre-made sun-dried tomato pesto sauce and mixed it with pasta, which I did cook myself. The result was this:





I'm really only posting this for the sake of posting it. It wasn't so memorable per se that it had to be recorded for posterity; the only special thing about it was that it was the first meal I made here, in my tiny-ass room in London.

Anyway, two complaints:

1. The lack of parmesan cheese in ordinary supermarkets. I had to buy cheddar because there was no parmesan cheese in the supermarket near my place. Do British people not eat cheese with pasta? Do they eat cheddar with pasta? That's just so weird. I spent a good 5 minutes staring at the cheese on display and trying to figure out whether I was missing something and why it was that seemingly every single block of cheese was a variation of cheddar (in fact, I think that was indeed the case); in the end, I bought a block of cheddar and let's just say that I'm never grating it again. It was so gross - it was all mushy and it was just disgusting when I grated it against...um, the grater, I suppose.

2. For someone who doesn't like fire, after cooking pasta on the electric hob, I need to say that I bloody miss my gas stove at home. First, it takes forever for the water to boil on an electric stove; and second, when the water starts boiling and spilling over the lid of my saucepan, it takes forever for it to stop spilling over even after I turn off the stove. On the gas stove at home, the water stopped boiling immediately when I switch off the stove; but here, I stood there for a couple of minutes literally watching the water spill over the lid and onto the hob. It was pretty annoying.

What was also annoying was how small the sink was and how difficult it was to wash the dishes. On the topic of annoying things, I would also like to state that I was mega pissed off when I went downstairs to fetch my laundry from the dryer and discovered that almost all my laundry was still wet except two pillow cases. If I'm gonna pay 1 pound per drying, I definitely expect my clothes to be dry enough (not even completely dry - that's how low I'm pegging my expectations). But no, they were so wet that I had to dry them a second time, as if this shit was free.

I really hate this shithole I'm living in. I hate the area. I hate that the lifts don't work half the time. I hate how small the room is, but I'm starting to get used to it now. But the area is so shit that I don't even know if it's redeemable. I went to my Swiss friend's place for dinner on Saturday night and left at about 10-ish at night. When I reached my station and exited the gentry, some gross man who was walking in my direction to take the tube pinched my butt as he walked past me. It was so fucking gross and I was so pissed off that I turned around and glared really hard at his back, and he actually had the audacity to turn back to check for my reaction. I was honestly too stunned to do anything except show him the finger, and as one would expect from a sleazebag, he looked slightly sheepish as he continued walking to the platform.

This kind of shit never happened to me in Singapore. It just had to happen at the station that I use because I fucking live here. It really wasn't as if I needed another reason to hate this shithole, but there you go. I was in a club on Friday night and didn't even get touched inappropriately (or at all, really, save for this one gross guy that kept trying to dance cheesily with random girls) by drunk guys, so the fact that something like this happened when I was innocuously trying to get back to my room just makes me hate this place even more.

I can't stay in this area on Sundays. It depresses the shit out of me. Thank goodness I don't have classes on Mondays and Fridays; it means that hopefully, I won't have to do that much reading on Sunday.

Speaking of reading, I went for the International Law of Refugees, etc class this morning and left during the break because the room was so crowded that I had to sit on the floor, and I was extremely uncomfortable. I really just went for fun on the behest of my Swiss friend; I don't want to take the course anyway. It's not really my area of interest and there are other courses that I'm more interested in. I have International Human Rights Law at 12 tomorrow and I can't wait.