Mischief, Mayhem, Psychopaths, Cyclepaths

Yay, finished my write-up for Pathology way before I expected to. But that's mainly cause, I'm alone for the weekend again! Decided to soldier through it for the afternoon, and there, I steeled myself and did it with sheer determination.

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That's after a harrowing morning cooking both breakfast and lunch. I gotta admit it, Anthony Bourdain's Kitchen Confidential did inspire me a whole hell lot. Cooking the lettuce done just so you still taste the lettuce - not the sauce. Taking the art of cooking seriously.



Breakfast was pancakes made using pancake mix (what a sacrilege!) because I wanted to, have a control to compare how my usual pancakes fare against them. Mom prefers the pancake mix ones cause they're fluffier. But they don't have the buttery taste and the chewiness (more milk, more egg - high protein!) that mine do. And when you leave them to stand, they start to taste a little off, which I know is due to too much alkalinity (too much baking soda).

Lunch, it was a disaster. Note to self - never ad-lib and improvise all the way when I'm just a newbie.



Overcooked chicken breast cooked in a flat tasting tomato paste.



Horribly undercooked calrose rice with too much tomato mixed into it.



Soggy lettuce.

I really need to brush up my standards of cooking real food!

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And the evening bike ride was honestly scary.



I don't mind the cars cutting in front of me recklessly, because I know better than to get myself in their way. But all the same, I'd give them a visual display of displeasure.

I don't mind the hot weather.

I don't mind feeling like a pathetic freak hauling myself uphills so slowly I look like I've got a puncture.

But what I mind is when unwitting psychopaths walk on the cyclepaths, without even keeping to one side. And if that isn't bad enough, they never walk straight. Zigzags, spirals, backwards, I've seen it all. But never straight.

A kid zigzaged into my path - despite me blasting the bell really loudly as a warning - and I jam braked (yeah, both my tyres did skid) and I stopped about 50cm in front of the kid, who looked like the proverbial deer in the middle of the road staring at you, the headlights reflecting off its dumb eyes.

The hoi polloi around looked shocked, but I have no idea if their contempt leans towards me, the ignorant kid, or the equally ignorant parents of the kid.

Sped off, as no one was hurt. Didn't wanna get into more trouble. I really should ride on the roads on weekends.

And they say riding a bike is easy to learn.

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It wasn't the end. Almost back home, just one right turn, and I'd be on the lane that leads to the bottom of my block of flats.

Out of sheer exhaustion, I made the right turn blindly following a car. And subconsciously, I took the pedastrian crossing traffic lights 10m away as a beckoning sign to speed on - only that it wasn't the traffic light for my turn.

Saw a couple of vehicles accelerating towards me while I hastily cleared the turn.

Fuck. I almost died.

I'm exhausted and I can't deny it.

Thus concludes another near-death experience. Somehow I'm still a little too exhausted to appreciate the scariness of this whole situation. Exhaustion - one lovely sedative indeed.

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Tired. Contemplative.