Did you know that a size 14 chicken only takes an hour and a half to cook in the oven?? So why not a roast chicken on a Monday? I usually do a whole clove of garlic mashed into olive oil flavoured with Old Bay seasoning, pepper and garlic-herb salt. Two hefty wedges of butter are inserted into each breast, just under the skin. I don’t normally do gravy, but since I’m having rice for this one, I’ve kept the juices and spiked it with a few lashings of Maggi seasoning.
Ugh, the gym is starting to smell (uhm, from the people working out) because the temperature is a bit warmer.
Spring is in full swing.
Rice and chicken take-away meals at the supermarket! (we live a part of Auckland where the ethnicity is partial to rice).
The (working) Weekend
Over-salted margarita glass
HATE manual labour
Do cleaners look at your stuff and judge you?
Cambridge is a great town
Indian without much of the omnipresent curry flavour is refreshing
This week
I must admit that I’ve always felt a little miffed when someone asks me how my weekend went because:
Equally good stuff also happens on the weekdays
A failure of imagination about how else to greet a co-worker
I’m not really inclined to share how my weekend went (it has never, ever been my greeting on a Monday or Tuesday at work).
I’ve never been curious as to how people spent their weekend.
But now, I’ve fallen into the habit lately of just highlighting my weekend (and sharing it to the world lol) because admittedly, we’ve been planning it a bit better which makes all the difference in feeling that not only have you accomplished something, but that you somehow triumphed over time itself and its ever fleeting nature (more so it seems when you’re absolutely doing nothing).
But I still wallow in not caring about time at all- I normally sleep past midnight on Fridays and Saturdays, I wake up just before 9am, I take leisurely naps.
But weekdays are also a goldmine of pockets of time where you can move things along and not be stuck in the cycle of your 9 to 5 or 8 to 4:30 in my case. If you’re fortunate that you’re in charge of your own time, then get as much out of it as you can.
It's never too early
The Weekend
We’ve been a bit ‘remiss’ with our respective dieting regimens so we figured that ugh, before we went back to it again, we’ll have a great weekend eating anything we fancied which ended up more or less, actually still being healthy anyway.
Cafe Koko is our go-to local for home-made Japanese food. Run by an actual Japanese couple whose relationship status we’re still trying to figure out as tactly as we could, the space looks like a typical Japanese neighbourhood eating place. You can’t fault the food for price, presentation or flavour.
Restaurant Month 2025 has wrapped up (runs all through the month of August), and I won’t being doing another round of I could haves and should haves. But we did manage to get a good five-course meal on the last day at Hello Beasty; I dithered between their famous Prawn toast and sashimi, but I ended up picking the latter.
There’s a shop called Martha’s Backyard that sells American food stuff and it’s funny how in a different lifetime, Cheerios, Hostess Twinkies, Lays, Kraft Mac N’ Cheese singles and Candy Corn were stuff you thought you’d be eating the rest of your life. I got a Butterfinger bar and a popular Chik-fil-A sauce which fulfilled its promise of being great on everything.
Found a bag of glutinous rice flour after my pantry clean-up; so had to make mochi.
Goodbye to winter, hello spring.
How are you?
I have an acquaintance who’s asked me regularly for years how I was- it was always, hey how are you? And for years, I replied every time with, I’m fine and just so busy. And that was that which is really so stupid if you think about how regular it is (once a month at least).
I could blame myself for reciprocating with such a lack of enthusiasm, but it was actually always the truth. I guess I could tell them of milestones or big events, but there are no such things in my life. I don’t have a family of my own for one thing, where a child’s achievement (or failure!) or a spouse’s adventure (or misadventure) could be passed off as my own doing. I could make things up- I’m good at this when I need to be - but elaborate fictions are probably better written down instead. I could say something about my day, how it’s almost always okay; how I look forward to dinner because it’s something I had planned for a week in advance; about how maybe I should try sleeping earlier, or reading a book instead of perusing what’s on offer on all the streaming channels as if I was on a night in town, hunting for a hook-up to waste two hours of my time on (and inevitably, predictably logging off because nothing caught my eye).
But that takes a lot of energy that I honestly, simply don’t want to spend. Sorry D, you could always read my blog you know.
But I am willing to spend energy for the precious few friends that I have, so…
Yes Lei, I have been truly busy..
With work (before end of financial year housekeeping stuff), and with pre-spring cleaning stuff. Had to sort the burgeoning pantry and found a) duplicates of condiments; b) unopened condiments more than two years old; c) strange condiments such as blue-berry and orange liqueur sauce and creme de menthe flavoured miso.
Have you ever tried ‘tricking’ your body by having meals that you would normally have for breakfast or lunch as dinner, such as French toast and granola with plain Greek yoghurt? The trick there is that you feel less guilty because you had the naughty food earlier in the day and would have had a chance to burn it off.
I have spent enough on glasses to buy a 2nd-hand shitty car.
Apparently, there’s such a thing as sustainable cycling. There’s a local place run by cycling enthusiasts where you can bring your bicycle to get serviced, as well as sell it if you don’t have any use for it. The bikes are nothing fancy, but we could tell after testing them that they’ve been soundly fixed and have a few more good years left. As someone who’s had really good (read:$$$) bikes, I feel a bit ambivalent about hopping onto a $65 beauty. They also sell helmets for just $40 if you feel like cycling home with whatever bike caught your fancy. That’s just over $100 for the whole lot. In contrast, the sneakers I was wearing that day were over $400. So am I a bike snob?? Is it fair to equate its quality to its price?? Probably, but does it really matter when you’re just using it around the damned neighbourhood??
The Weekend
We had to drive over 30kms to get to this food truck that sold pork-belly slices. It was great. It was deceptively hefty, well-seasoned and warm as if it had only come out of the deep-fryer minutes ago. I’m done trying to fry pork-belly. I’ve boiled it first, kept it in the fridge overnight, to disappointing results. And a pot full of oil ends up sitting on top of the stove until I eventually throw it out because I rarely deep fry anything.
Made marmalade for the first time. The experience is akin to that of diving over a cliff, surviving it as you would, only to realise that you could have done it correctly, a hundred million ways. Well, FUCK THAT. It tastes great - I like the rind and the slight bitterness- and I will only ever try to eat it once or twice anyway because it has too much sugar (10 CUPS) and we rarely ever eat bread.
Life is so hard
Tsunamis (in Parker Posey’s voice now permanently in my head), some new war somewhere, family stuff (related to our December visit), the entire front page of the New York Times..what else?
I just want to eat my dinner in peace (back to full-on Keto with steak and avocados)- is that too much to ask?
The Weekend
Funny that we can stick with dodgy friends literally for life and yet totally disown something like white bread. Ruth’s up for a couple of days so the pantry and the fridge have been stocked up with her ‘essentials’ such as white (toast) bread, full-cream milk and spreadable butter; items we’ve put on the black-list because of a combination of second-hand information, possibly bogus ‘scientific evidence’ from social media and snobbery.
I miss white bread. My go-to sandwiches are either a cucumber one with the crusts cut off, or toasted with mayo and a thick slice of cheese. Yum.
When will we ever learn that lists don’t work at Costco.
Wagyu beef ribs redux. I picked the wrong SKU- whole ribs- and there was no way I could cut them unless we had a band-saw or something. So they were seared on the George Foreman grill which worked quite well.
Yes you can brulee a cheese-cake, recipe here
Asar
Why would you leave your teaspoon on the sink?? Will it stand up and make its way to the dishwasher?
No, I don’t want to hear about how bratty you kid is first thing in the morning.
Blocked sinuses don’t really warrant calling in sick.
How hard is it to fill up the water container in the coffee machine after you’ve used it?
Injury (a full tear) and possible surgery.
Well at least when you shift your exercise work to your lower body, you get a six pack and great legs
You can’t fucking have everything can you??
You have that face? Go home
Auckland rain (coz I’m pretty sure it’s fine everywhere else) has the worst timing
When people smell in winter
Sad cat reels and videos. Don’t want to see that.
The week that was
I’ve been mulling a four-day work week, convinced that it will dramatically change the way I work and live. I’m already envisioning Fridays when I can finish chores (leaving the weekends free), bake (but then I have to eat the darned things), cook (more eating!), write (more staring at an empty screen), draw (why is Procreate so hard??). The possibilities are endless, or I could possibly end up in bed the whole day, exhausted from the previous four days.
Speaking of Procreate, tackling it is the same as going into an Indian supermarket. I want to buy a little bit of everything, attempt to do something, but then realise that I have little to zero knowledge of the ingredients, the culture and the history. Knowing how to cook (or draw), is simply not enough. Where to begin though?
I hurt my shoulder and I don’t know how or where. I thought it was the same shoulder that I injured nearly two years ago but at the physio, it turns out that now it’s the other shoulder (my right). How do I even forget something like this? There’s a sliver of pain with such actions as raising and fluffing the (heavy) winter duvet blanket, or soaping my back with the $2 back-scrubber that I got from Temu. I could’ve ignored it. I could’ve brushed it away as something part of aging (and not necessarily an injury). It could have gone or it could it have gotten worse. But I didn’t let the chips fall where they may, which I used to do a lot in the past. I’m at a point in my life where I marvel at my capacity to be responsible for myself (because who else would??), to know that an intervention is the logical choice. Have an appointment this week for an ultrasound to see what’s up.
I used fresh pasta the other day and didn’t realise how delicious it is. It’s something I normally shy away from. I would rarely ever pick an Italian restaurant - if I wanted to fill myself with carbs, I’d just get a double Quarter Pounder from McDonald’s or get a pizza from Pizza Hut (with two sides of chicken wings). But fresh is something else isn’t it?
I love winter. It makes spending $7 for a coffee every morning at the petrol station justified and necessary.
Friday
The weather in Auckland is the weirdest. While you’re out and about enjoying window shopping in deserted shops with just a light rain outside this happens.
My sister does her hobbies on her days off work. On mine, I go to the city and enjoy its pleasures. The train is pleasantly warm even if we had to stand up the rest of the quick (it was an express route) 25 minute ride into the CBD.
Another weird thing about Auckland; people are not really keen on public transport. They’d rather drive and moan the rest of the day about how horrendous the traffic and the weather was.
Sam and I have coffees and a nice danish (tomatillo with passion fruit and cream) at our current favourite Daily Bread. I had my Surface with me so what do you do when you have one of your work devices with you? You just have to check your emails.
I take the train back to Newmarket; my go-to local label just dropped some more active wear. The trains are empty, the shops deserted which is perfect. The rain is falling heavily now and I realise that the shop opens at 10am, not nine.
I duck into the once bustling Rialto Centre where there are seats in the lobby. It’s nearly deserted of shops which is another weird thing about Auckland; retail shops struggle in a city that no one wants to visit either by car or by public transport! (how stupid is that?). I’m facing this shop that sells candles, postcards and kitschy decor and I wonder, do people buy enough of this crap to allow you to pay the lease?
I read a longish New Yorker article on my phone about the 33-year old wannabe mayor of New York Zohran Mamdani and by the time I’m done, it’s 10:20.
I’m an efficient shopper; I know what I want and I’ve already picked the stuff out from the website. I don’t try anything else which prevents me from buying more. I’m done in about 15 minutes. The rain has stopped a bit and someone is lingering at Aesop which is just next door. I could smell black pepper and cedar. Damn it.
I go in and buy a pottle of body cleanser, a hand cream and a lips salve.
The Weekend
The Weekend
A gnarly tale of financial priorities. I damaged a wisdom tooth and passed on several opportunities to have it taken out, mostly because at one point, a former dentist suggested that I needed a specialist ($$$$$$$) to take it out. I mean fuck that I thought when I got an estimate, which could cover the purchase of two luxury bags. The tooth didn’t hurt at all so I waited until it loosened to a point where I could actually pull it out. I thought for minute that maybe I needed to see my current dentist to take it out just in case there was a complication, because you never know. But again, I thought it would be embarrassing that a well-dressed adult man, who could well afford a $300+ extraction, would let it go this far. But I was already at that point- I could feel the tooth with my tongue dangling by the thinnest of whatever it was that was holding it in place. It seemed stupid going to the dentist now and forking out $300. The dentist would probably laugh at the easiest money she ever made. So I pulled it, slight twinge of pain, a bit of bleeding, and with a small torch, saw with relief that the clot was already there. It closed up overnight and I didn’t even need to eat soup for dinner. See? Saved some money there.
I’m not the most DIY orientated of people which I blame on my upbringing and a culture where for a reasonable fee, you can get things done for you. But shelling out $80 to get a chain taken out of a bracelet, or to change a broken clasp??? And I almost did, except that that person who did the repairing was away sick. So it took a full week before I came to my senses and watched enough YouTube videos to realise that with some tools, I could shorten the jewellery myself and fix the broken clasp myself and not be a totally useless person.
I think we’re in for the kind of winter that’s not good for dressing up- WET and cold.
Out of office
Should aim staying over in the warmer months next time
The perfect routine; work from 7:30am to 11; walk to the gym; work till 4:30; nap; dinner; sleep at 9:30.
The mental impact of eating food you grew up with can never be underestimated- fuck dieting.
It’s been a while since I had scrambled eggs with tomatoes. Dad made it all the time, the perfect accompaniment to fried fish or Spam. There would be heaps left over and I would remember eating bits of it throughout the day until it was all gone.
Kids grow up so fast it makes me want to cry.





Working weekend
I almost lost my phone and then my ring, which gave me an epiphany of sorts; I thought that I didn’t have that much of an attachment to material things, but I do.
The phone was easy enough because I left it in an Uber, which we recovered in 20 minutes, but the ring was a mystery. I thought I’d lost it while doing my business in a cordoned-off, private restroom at the arena where we held our show over the weekend. I swear I remember taking it off while I was in the cubicle and putting it into my toiletry bag. Fast forward two hours, I suddenly realise that it wasn’t on my finger, and the panic and grief I felt was something I didn’t expect.
Suffice it to say that I went back up to the restroom half a dozen times, scanning the floor, the stairs in the hope that I had dropped it, praying under my breath for God to make it twinkle in some dark corner, some crevice. But alas.
I cursed myself for having way too many sakes the night previous, hence a grumbly stomach worsened by a breakfast of a big McDonald’s Brekkie Burger with an extra beef patty and a fried egg. See what happens when you SHIT at work? Something bad happens.
It took the whole day for me to accept the fact that these things do happen - you win some (the day previous, I got word from my doctor that my blood-sugar reduction diet was working) and you lose some.
Our show closed at 4 pm and we started the process of packing up. Just randomly, I reached for this box where we’ve put in our empty coffee cups and various trash and absentmindedly riffled through it (like why right? I could have dumped it straight into the bin) and saw a glint of silver.
It was the ring. Honestly don’t know how it get there, or maybe I’m losing my mind, but I’m glad that God returned it to me.
The Weekend
What I really, really want, but can't have
A huge plate full of rice (guilt and fear of illness have most likely shrunk my stomach- I feel physically ill if I had more than a cup).
Solid, well-formed hands and fingers with no veins and creapey skin. I’d like to wear heaps of rings, but my hands are ugly.
A modestly substantial, well-formed butt. Yes, I do squats and all that everyday, but alas…
Perfect eyesight. FUCK these goddamned glasses.
Full, luxurious, out of control, brazenly lush facial hair.
Justice on my own terms.
To go back in time just once and be able to say to this person - YES YOU WERE WRONG YOU STUPID CUNT.
Longer eyelashes
To go back in time just once and say to my Tatay (my mom’s dad) - I PICKED A DIFFERENT PATH AND I’M GLAD I DID BECAUSE I’M HAPPY.
To go back in time just once with my camera and take a million photos of my old cat Tiger because I can’t remember what she looks like anymore :-(
Thursday's list
I’m glad these shoes fit, even if I’m agonising over the fact that I don’t have the appropriate pants and socks that I think would suit them.
There was a party that I was invited to this week that I had to decline. I needed to buy a new suit jacket, but I ended up using the money to buy these shoes instead- and yes, some of us don’t have an endless supply of disposable income to buy everything we want.
We’re nearing the end of May! Where has the time gone??
I need a clock (or timer) for the bathroom; something has changed in my morning routine, and I’m cutting it very close (I’m out the door at 6:49 am to hitch a ride with Mary).
Wouldn’t it be cool if you could buy time like literally?? (remember this movie?).
The Weekend
Every year on May 10 (Matt’s birthday) is Sisig Day. Boil it, season it, grill it, chop it, season it and Uber deliver it.
Sisig is a treat, eating it with rice (as if there’s any other way) is a treat.
I love the Auckland CBD. On a Saturday (or any other given day), it’s like being in a world where none of the real world’s problems exist, because who cares? Queen Street is so tiny with traffic controlled so you can sit at one of the benches and not feel that you’re in a city.
I would love to live in the city; if we didn't have Lily the cat, we probably would.