movement or paralysis?

Olla people.

Probably two non-blogging months is a respectable distance to start putting my experiences into perspective, or write some sort of narrative to them.

First up: teaching.
It goes pretty well so far. My assigned classes are alright. The syllabus, which is pretty much standardised (and which I got to jig about a few months back), is showing me how I can make my life more liveable. I write an immense amount of comments on the works I mark: in itself the act is not exactly a chore as I tend to chortle a lot on paper. However, multiply that by 20+ and the tasks get pretty intense by the end of the day. I was told that the amount of time that I spend marking students' works is "way too much." Students, if you are reading this then be thankful that you have a lecturer who actually bothers correcting almost every single mistake you make. They do find out about me from my virtual paper trails, but that's another story in itself...

Second topic: digital consumer ware.
I managed to bungle my dad's pocket camera's lens motion software, and I haven't exactly saved up enough to buy a nice new digipocket camera, so it's the Drone Phone's job (minus t3h personal assistant yours truly.) It's boring black in colour, as opposed to whingey white. Not exactly the easiest personal electronic device to extract picture files from. Sulk please.
Following the limitations that (1) numbers cannot be carried over across different mobile network providers (boo!) and (2) the Drone Phone's minuscule SIM card slot, I got myself a new mobile phone number... which comes with an easily recitable number and a sometimes-dodgy network coverage. Oh well.

Third topic: socialising.
Sometime in December I met up with Mr John of the Orford fame, who happened to be soaking up some winter sun and culture. Quite an interesting man whom I hope would make the sun-seeking behaviour a more regular part of his travel itinerary. Hoping to see him again at in a year's time, and hoping to extract that photo of him in flip-flops out of my mum's now-defunct mobile phone.
Also, there was a picture of me in a glossy magazine out earlier this month. It wasn't exactly for my work, though. Well, there's room for improvement I guess :)

Fourth topic: culinary pursuit.
Out of all those mint tisanes I drank in the past few months, I finally managed to get a green-tinged ice cream using only mint and no colouring. Considering my first attempt for mint stracciatella resulted in a sand-coloured concoction, it's a progress in the right direction.
I'm also looking forward to honing my no-yolk recipe as a form of homage to my favourite ice-cream joint. For the record, the runner-up is Gentong, surprisingly enough a native of Jakarta. Lickme is third, and that Lygon gelati place is off the charts - I don't miss it anymore. I haven't practised my mini-cake skills for almost a year. Geez, that means I haven't seen Bandit for almost a year.

Fifth topic: daily commuting.
Er, it's not exactly commuting because I drive a car to get around. Verrrrry bad for the environment, unless I ride a manually leg-powered bicycle. When I get to choose between the two, I choose the car, because I'd rather turn up at work smelling olfactorily inoffensive. It's almost impossible not to sweat when travelling by public transportation in Jakarta (taxis excluded.)
Plus, in the past three days I got hit/swiped by motorcycles on two different occasions. On both times my car was stationary when my rear bumper got hit. On hit #1 the errant gap-weaving motorcycler ran off (I wish I have some sort of projectile weaponry to deal with this sort of road users), and on hit #2 I managed to fan off my frustrations to the remorseful-looking motorcycler (his mind was somewhere else when he squarely ran into the middle of my bumper.) Really, it takes lots of patience to drive myself here.

On Anne, Mag, KY, Heidi and those VIPs in London:
I miss them. My work (both teaching and studio work) excites me but when I catch glimpses of their life online (when I actually have some time off) it makes me wonder what they would say to get my arse moving better. Maybe their reactions would be a mixture of wonderment, disgust and laissez-faire... who knows. I care about them anyway.

Which brings me to this rather existentialist question:

am I in movement or paralysis?

And so, closing the post, I would like to check my mattress...