living down the bucket list

Grrrrrr…. It’s Friday. Okay, since it’s 1 am, it’s Saturday the 26^th. One of the perks of my theme is that it doesn’t date stamp my posts. It seems like it should still be Friday because I haven’t slept yet. That’s not news I suppose. Yesterday (as in Friday) or earlier tonight, I in my opinion outdid myself with this Biryani thing I’ve been dying to make for like ever. It’s been a while, hence how I forgot the pawpaw part until it was time for blending. But I guess it still turned out amazing. Colin didn’t like the part about the pink rice though. Still.

I’m supposed to be at IMAX. Crossing off the ‘Watch midnight movie and see city in wee hours’ item off my bucket list. We went. We didn’t make quorum. We returned. I did however cross off that ‘see city (girls) in the wee hours part’. They have grit. They don’t feel cold. And walk in twos. Except this one who was on University Way alone. Or maybe she wasn’t alone. But we did get to do this on Standard Street or whichever; the one after Trattoria. It's like a whole different reality, town at these hours. 

I want the green bag. Also, I must go to the supermarket and find out once and for all what this saffron thing is. I’m tired of seeing it in recipes and not knowing what it is. Aunty Beaty says everything in a recipe is important, you miss one, it’s just not the same. She said it about the Biryani recipe she taught me years ago, I’m just extrapolating.

Blogger needs to up their game and ask me what’s on my mind every time I come to write a new post. Like Facebook. That way, I can say ‘desiderata’. That go-placidly-amid-the-noise piece from way back. I’ve been thinking about that all week. I’m going to look it up now, before I say what I’m going to say next. My mouth is too small for my foot ergo.

Good, all done! I’m going to do 7 days, 7 posts, about that really old and clichéd piece. Not sure how yet. And I didn’t say 7 consecutive days. Just 7 posts. Hopefully the days will be consecutive. Knowing myself, I know piece number 7 will come a month after today. It’ still acceptable, methinks. I’ve grown so accustomed to having a Martin deadline to sail through that I’m finding myself writing my own thing more and more often, like when I’m done earlier than usual. The blog’s not complaining, neither is hopefully those angst-y kids in the U.S. of A. with long unpronounceable emails. 

I went shopping yesterday (again, as in Friday). Didn’t find what I set out to look for, came back with a full bag all the same. Feeling reborn. I don’t know what it is about shopping. And I found. The. Most. Gorgeous. Maxi. Dress. Ever. For a bargain. I promise, it is like a dream. Now saying maxi dress reminds of me of these 40 articles I’ve written about dresses this week. And of the proverb ‘Mwamba ngoma ngozi huvuta kwake’. I was writing for a dress site, whose biggest size of dress is a 12 probably. Maybe 14. But I still managed to throw in a few articles about big girl dresses. Mostly because I ran short of ideas at number 23. But also because, you know mwamba ngoma. But you learn something new every day. I’m going to miss this once I have to give it up.

I actually looked up shopping and its psychology. Because I remember the  day the Kindle got lost, I was soooo depressed leaving town. I didn’t want to get home. So I went grocery shopping instead. And I kid not, as I was selecting those tomatoes one by one, I dunno, it’s like the sun started rising again. I didn’t even impulse buy like anything for myself. But just the whole thing… I dunno, maybe it’s gaining back control by taking an issue you can control. I wonder who’s got it. I wonder what they’re using it for. Maybe they sold it to someone else. Hhhmmmm…

Now I’m sleepy. And I have that headachy thingy that comes in between my temples when I’m tired. And this laptop has reached teenage. Tacky? I know. But it’s just not the good little girl I used to tell things and it listens to me. And Job’s not there until next week. I dunno how much more of this I can take. The weekend of 2^nd is going to be really interesting. We’ll see. My stuffed animal needs washing. And I need to go find Mama Debz before my hairs all fall out. Go home Joy, you're drunk.