On My Own

I'm back to writing on my own again.

The second writing group I joined has now disintegrated. Perhaps this means I will feel freer to write about the people in the writing group. Usually, I came away from writing group with the urge to write about my fellow writing groupies, but am restrained by a combination of niceness and fear; fear that they may come to this blog and read my mean thoughts about them.

They are all very nice people; they are just full of neuroses or loneliness or, in the case of one incandescent individual, complete madness (seriously, he was involuntarily admitted to psychiatric hospital).

As I am, I suppose (full of neuroses and/or loneliness). Although I'm pretty sure I'm not certifiable.

Another Year!

I do not make public New Year's resolutions. I make private promises to myself. This year, I'm going public.

A friend informed me that a former boss "found" my piece in Growing Up Asian in Australia, so she directed him (with my permission) to this blog.

(Hi - you know who you are Former Boss - if you're reading this now. No need to say 'hi' back...)

I spent some hours re-reading past posts and am a little saddened that so many of my earlier posts read so much better than my recent posts. They seem more thoughtful, more insightful, more thinking (which I think is different to thoughtful). I need to re-capture them.

So that's Resolution Number One: Write More and Write Better
(Although I'll be happy with the 'more' bit and will leave the 'better' bit to fall into place. If there's a lot of chaff, eventually there's wheat, right?)

I've not really got off to a good start, but I'm a battler and I ain't giving up.

Resolution Number Two is a bit mundane: Sleep at Regular Times on a Weeknight.

Which leads nicely to Resolution Number Three: Arrive at Work around 8.30am.

I've been doing very poorly on both these fronts but that's gonna change, I swear.

Resolution Number Four: this year, REALLY, is the year I Wear Contact Lenses. This has been my New Year's resolution (even though I say I don't make them, I LIE) for the last, hmm, 5 years or thereabouts. Seriously, 2009 is the year. I'll update you on that one.

chuc mung nam moi, friends.

Sub-Zero

The temperatures have been sub-zero in the last few weeks (though it has now warmed up again).

This has been quite exciting, although cycling into work in the mornings is hard.
Actually, getting up in the mornings is hard. My bed is nice and warm. My house is reasonably warm. I even have underfloor heating in the bathroom and in a defiant burst of extravagance programmed for it to come on and warm the bathroom floor on weekday mornings.

All encouragement to get me out of bed when it is minus 5 outside is welcome.

My main gripe with sub-zero temperatures is that it is not snowing. Surely, if it is sub-zero, then it must snow. Surely, this is the way things are. There can be no other way. But no, no snow. Every morning, lots of frost but no snow.

I went for a long(ish) cycle ride on Friday and for mere moments, snowflakes fell onto my nose, causing me to go cross-eyed so I could see them. I held out my tongue to see if I could catch a few. I could not.

I wonder what the cars coming in the opposite direction thought of brightly coloured me, cycling along, tongue out like an overheated dog. Another mad cyclist?

The other mad cyclists who bicycle commute into work or school/uni of a winter morning all look pretty happy to me. I tend to be smiling as I cycle along - I love cycling in the cold - and my fellow cyclists seem equally chuffed.

I wear three pairs of socks: tights, a thin liner sock, a thick outer sock.
I wear four layers of tops: a singlet/vest, my workshirt (usually a knit or jersey 3/4 or long sleeve top), a fleece jumper and my wind&water-proof cycling jacket.
I wear two layers of bottoms: tights and corduroy trousers.
My neck is wrapped in a red or green scarf and a 'buff' that I fashioned by cutting up a pair of old trackie-dacks (tracksuit trousers / sweat pants) that no longer fit me.
My head sports a naff yellow beanie (woolly hat, touk) with ear flaps and dangly plait bits and helmet.

I am the very epitome of sartorial elegance on a bike.