It's a baking success!

I had a huge craving for pandan chiffon cake today and found this recipe from The Star's culinary guru. If you, like me, can't find pandan leaves or realise at the last minute you don't have a blender to extract its juice, replace it with one teaspoon of instant coffee powder in 1/4 cup of water to make coffee chiffon cake instead.

I'm baking a second one for church tomorrow. Yumm.

Annoying

A few months ago, an Indian couple with a young son moved in to the first unit downstairs. The husband knows a colleague who lives upstairs with a Caucasian wife and two energetic kids. This colleague of his looks Sri Lankan, or maybe a mix between Indian and another race of fairer complexion, I dont know. There is also another Indian couple who lives upstairs because I had bumped into the husband in the carpark and his wife usually sees him off. My building is three-storey high with only twelve units, so it's not that difficult to notice your neighbours wandering around.

Unfortunately I can't really tell where this Indian music that is playing right this moment is coming from. I know it's only close to ten but some people do need to sleep early. Sometimes it sounds like chanting. No matter how it sounds, it's annoying the shits out of me!

On a different note, I hear occasional yelling, mostly of a man seemingly scolding a woman who must be real fearful because I hardly hear a sound from her. And it's definitely of Indian slang and words. The supposedly one-sided argument felt like it lasted forever, because those were precious night winks that were deprived of.

I really wonder if I should just mind my own business. After all, these are other people's family affairs. On the other hand, I really feel like going to their doors and politely asking them to shut up. If only I could understand what they were so frustrated about, then it wouldn't be such a mind-boggling thing right now.

It just doesn't feel right

First, it started with nose runs and consecutive sneezes. By lunchtime, the throat was sore. By teatime, I felt a funny bone on my right arm. Maybe I've been typing too long or exerted too much energy in last night's netball game. I persisted to attend my Tuesday boxing class but left halfway through the session when my nose refused to leave me alone. When I reached home, Chloe ran out the front door and refused to come back immediately when called. Just before I stepped into the shower, I cracked my ankle, again, and it was so darn audible it was bad.

I hate today. And I can't believe myself for bringing work papers home. Perhaps a sign to make myself useful if I decide to take the day off tomorrow.

Make that noise!

I have been so caught up with soccer that I have completely forgotten to write about STOMP. It was staged at StarCity's theatre and I went to watch it with a group of friends a few weeks back.

STOMP is a famous percussion show with over eleven years on Broadway. You will definitely love this production if you, like me, are those who embrace the sheer joy of banging on things (I do, my colleague always wonder why I keep banging on my keyboard). No speech, no dialogue, no plot. Just the power of infectious rhythm that engaged the audiences and got us laughing heaps. The eight member cast used everything but conventional percussion instruments - from everyday objects like broom, garbage cans and wooden poles to unthinkable items like tubes, matchboxes, plastic bags and Zippo lighters. I was superbly impressed.

There is a similar show by a Korean group featuring kitchen chefs and knives. If you hear about it coming to Aussie, let me know!

Dear BW

I woke up this morning thinking about what I did last night. And no, I am not sorry for not fulfilling that favour you asked of me. A splitting headache got the better of me, but I did not tell you that. I don't really know why I refrained from explaining myself. I hope you know me well enough to know that I would have never abandoned you in the rain.

Name something associated with mouth ulcers

S.T.R.E.S.S.

Seriously. I never knew those pestering mouth ulcers had anything to do with stress. And my friend, who is a nurse, probably made the right diagnosis. They have been making constant appearances during these troubled times.

I need to rid them. Want. Must. Oh, go away.

And they say graduates have nothing to fear

There has been plenty of kerfuffle at work. Plenty of goss. Plenty of speculation. And yet, we are all expected to focus on our jobs.

I can't say that I'm doing very well either. Zits on my face tell it all. To say that I'm not worried is an understatement. Our future lie in the hands of newly appointed presidents who, so I've heard, have big ambitions of relinquishing the idea of external plant engineering services. Others have been quoted as expressing an interest in restructuring and absorbing engineers into the plant instead.

The first step from management is to sniff out any potential happy clappy ones wishing to be made redundant voluntarily. Some are waiting to hear their fate in the next few months, and that would include yours truly. Some are already applying for jobs elsewhere, and that would include 250 others who have already lost their jobs.

Where to from here? I'm not sure. And I have just begun to love doing what I'm doing now. Love engineering? One will never expect to hear that from someone who had a genie wishlist of morphing into anyone but an engineer. Seriously.

Of sewer pits, overhead cranes and diabetes test

First it was a shit job. Two days later, a dirt job. A week later, a prick of a job.

Butt out

For a team plagued with scandals, diving antics, and club uncertainties, Italy has triumphed. They will be doubtfully remembered as an outstanding team, let alone hailed as the deserving winners of the World Cup. A disastrous team, I'd say.

Zidane's infamous head-butt incident is certainly unpardonable, however serious the provocation may have been. Had he release a similar temper on the streets, a charge will be laid, that's for sure. It's a strange exit for a player of exceptional skills and fancy footwork on the pitch, though not particularly outstanding in France's first few opening matches, not to mention a suspension already in the bag. But to be sensationally sent off in a World Cup final is the cruelest blow to any professional soccer player wanting to end his international career on a high note.

What is done, is done. The world awaits in anticipation on what the great Zizou will say on that sour gesture that has attracted undivided attention.

I want to dance dance dance in the freedom I know

It has been a crazy week. I did mention before that I was expecting to enjoy as much ME time as I can. Guess that didn't quite work out as planned when you have to work nine to ten hours a day this week, which is highly unusual for someone who detests overtime.

Hence, I was very happy to be on the bus to Sydney's Olympic Park last night, though feeling extremely lethargic and sleepy. This deficiency syndrome of mine almost caused me to enter into hibernation mode and risk being an anti-social cat. I had no idea where the perseverence to continue chatting came from, but I was sure glad it did not abandon me.

Hillsong's 20th conference ended magnificently last night. I went with high expectations. I wanted to be blessed, but got anointed with oil instead. I wanted to release and be relieved, but teared instead. I wanted to hear my favourite Marty Sampson songs, but got reminded instead with simple words that He loves me no matter what.

On top of that, I accomplished something B.I.G. that I had wanted to do for a long time. As I signed the papers, I felt slightly ashamed that I've put it off time and time again. Now is the time, and I'm already looking to bless another.

Les Blues will win the World Cup

The France-Portugal game was so not watchworthy at all! Where are the high spirits and skillful manouvres of the gifted thirty-something French men who played such an impressive match against the Brazilians? They were lucky to have received that highly debatable (what's new?) penalty. Portugal, who got in the quarter finals by penalties, continued to trail on a penalty throughout the game. They hardly ever got a proper shot at the goal anyway.

But, I'm happy that France is in the finals. Italy, you're a sure loser.

Glory for Italy

Finally, some real soccer from Italy in the dying moments of the game, which really looked as if it was going to be another one of those kick-in-a-penalty or forever-be-shamed shootouts. I had strong predictions the Italians will continue their vigorous defence and the Germans will not get penetrated early, and damn right I was, for the score was nil all at the end of half time when I switched on the telly. I saved an extra hour of sleep, which was very much needed after a long day at work yesterday.

But I will give credit to the Italians, no matter how much I want them to lose, with their brilliant turn around in extra time, from boring defend-it-all game in normal time to breath-taking near misses and excellent curling goals after 90 minutes. What I had not expected was Grosso to score. He, who was controversially brought down by Lucas Neill in the previous game, scored a sensational goal to place Italy in the finals. Del Piero made sure the host nation suffer a deeper blow to their cut.

Who will Italy face in the final? I hope France will prevail. No penalty shootouts please.

Chocolate milkshake, anyone?

It has been a long eleven hours at work today. After lunch, I headed down to the sewer pit to check the boys' progress on the installation work of the integrated pump control module. Yes SEWER is the word and the pit stinks! Imagine chocolate thickshake and brown gravy-like fluid. YUCK!

Thankfully, at 6.30pm we got the pumps running correctly. There are just some minor hiccups with the indication lights, which I can easily fix tomorrow. Otherwise, I think my boss will have my head on the platter. Or maybe not. He didn't even bother to check if I was going all right with this critical job - either he has full confidence in a lowly-paid graduate like me or he simply doesn't care. After all, he is only in a temporary position as boss.