Lazy Saturday

"And it is true what you said, that I live like a hermit in my own head." - Death Cab for Cutie

 

I miss my mom's homemade chicken wings. It has always been a habit to do them every Saturday. I have been eating them since I was a wee child. Moving houses from one end of the island to another does not change the fact that we will not be having them on Saturdays. Well, actually, mom does not do them wings often anymore unless I request for it. But she did went back to the oven on Saturdays until I leave the country. I used to have three per meal (lunch and dinner) when I was a kid. Now. Just two. Never one. Because one is never enough. Chickens need two wings to fly too. If they ever, that is.

So maybe I will get the recipe from my mom and head down to Brisbane's lousy Chinatown to get the ingredients. I cannot go home. So I might as well bring some home to me. Lame, really.

I have tended to do those chicken wings before. It was Christmas a couple of years back. My Jamie Oliver personality sparkled and decided hey, let's us friends get together on Christmas and cook up a storm! It was supposed to be a handful of friends but ended up only two of my friends came over. But all was well. My sister hogged the over for hours marinating an overstuffed turkey, delaying four meals needing the over. We killed the appetising look of the lasagna and cooked six times more portion than we can eat. (But it was fucking good). The kitchen was still standing. However, the wings were a little undercooked. Maybe say 2%. But hey, pretty good for a first timer noob. You have to give me credit for that. /vain

Saturdays back home were pretty much as lazy as the ones here. I try to avoid going out on weekends because it is when the lala's come out to play. Since they so reluctantly give us the decency to rule the mall on weekdays, I shall give them the time of my life to rule the mall on the weekends. (It is a good bargain, do not fucking argue with me.) I sleep in. If I so unfortunately wake up too early for noon, I will go watch some Who's Line reruns at 10AM. Laugh my fucking ass off. My family will never understand why I can be so hearty about TV shows and so flatline for human communications. Then watch more TV while still in my sleeping wear. They always air those brainless chick flicks at 2PM. So I will watch them. Because Saturdays are brainless. Sometimes the movies are better. I will still watch them. Saturdays are just wasting my time away at home with the idiot box. It is as idiotic as an idiot can get with its idiocy.

On rare days, I will get up early and catch the Coffee Bean breakfast sets before 11AM. I love their Brek O'Day. Always with Amelia. Rarely with YiShu. Only when she pays her infamous unexpected homecoming from KL. (Rich bitch.) Two packs of sugar for my tea. First the toast, then the eggs, then the sausages. Sipping cold tea while fagging the most five cigarettes while talking always about my companion's boys. Birdwatching crappy fashion faux pas sauntering past, giving obvious brow-raises and mentally WTF-ing. Good times. Sometimes maybe a movie. Always managed to shimmy into MPH and Tower Records without avail. They beckon. We are their shareholders. It is our duty to check up on them whenever we can. Which is always. Good times. And maybe leave before the entire population of the island ever so stupidly cram into one small building.

Saturdays here do not have a car. I tend to sleep in till as late as I can. The most I can muster is 11AM - if you do not count lying in bed listening to songs, that is. Put out some clothes and then proceed to endless readings for my tutorials. Not much complaints here. After all, I am reading about Montgomery Burns, The OC, Eminem, Anthony Bourdain and Versace. Time just flies on Saturdays. Granted the sun sets earlier than the 20 years of my life I had before. But still.

My campus is fantastic on weekends. (Any minute now I will put on a "I heart KG" T-shirt.) I decided to pack my laptop and leech on some good ol' Uni wireless in the library. Postgraduates swing by on weekends. They look older. Some with toddlers trailing their footsteps past rows and rows of smart books. Some of them maybe aspire to become like their parent someday. Some just wish they are at home watching cartoons. Asians swing by on weekends too. Strangely. Because if I have a life, I will not packing up my laptop and going to the library on a Saturday. But still, Asians lurk around the campus on weekends. Maybe we are more hardworking. Or maybe we are just a step behind and need an extra day to be on par. I think we are more of the latter.

Just outside the library is a good spot to sit down. The buildings surround all four sides. The wind sails and the palm trees sing. Occasional Asians walking by. I listen to All-American Rejects and Emiliana Torrini. A fairly good place to think. No human communication needed. Nobody is around.