Week 1 of the No Coffee Chanllenge

Dear Diary,

Yesterday marked the end of my first week without coffee... so let me tell you about the horrors that I experienced this week.

So day 2 went about with as much interest as day 1 of the no coffee challenge. However, a new evil began to lurk in the background - I call it the Sugar Monster. I mean, its not like I have any scientific or medical proof about this but to me days 2 to 4 began a slow build off sugar cravings. I felt like a bottomless pit of junk. I ate more chocolate and chips and snacks than ever before. At first I thought that perhaps because I missed breakfast, I was feeling peckish. But after the second slab of chocolate, I knew I was falling into a craving abyss. 

I ate and ate and ate, but I wasn't satisfied - then Monday morning came and all I wanted was a Red Bull or some energy soft drink, that's when I realised that it was the lack of coffee that was getting to me. I was tired and hungry and perhaps my body thought that it was going to crash without the always willing and able support of caffeine.

Then the migraine came... it started softly, like a sweet caress. But it became needy and whiny, like an over attached girlfriend. Before long I was seeing black stars and not even painkillers could help (large amounts of chocolate didn't assist either). But the next day it began to let up and receded in the exact way that it began.

Now though, I catch myself thinking about making a cup of coffee, every so often, though it becomes less and less. My appetite has gone back to normal, which I am so grateful for.

Lets see what week 2 will bring.

xoxo

Day 1 of the 30 Day No Coffee Challenge

Dear Diary,

Today was a long day. Starting my 30 days without coffee has been strange.
Actually I'm not sure if this challenge is a thing or not but I'm winging it as I go...

So here's what I hear about reducing coffee intake to occasional doses... less stained teeth - makes sense; better sleep coz of the lack of caffeine; more rest coz you sleep better and therefore better functionality... well this is all from the YouTube video that made me think about it... I've added the link here...

Now, I'm no coffee addict. I often won't drink coffee for a few days and then there are days that I will drink up to 3 cups just because I feel like it. I love coffee. The smell and the flavour makes me happy but also the ritual of going to the office kitchen with a friend or two to brew a fresh cup helps the stress levels come down. So to reduce the stress of losing the coffee brewing ritual I opped to making oolong tea or rooibos tea as my new go to beverage.

This isn't going to be so difficult.

Or so I thought.

By 10:30am I was going strong. I drank a cup of oolong tea and got my work done. But then the urge to make a cup before going to my desk hit... And it hit again.. And again. It was innocent enough... often forgetting my challenge.

By 3:30pm the urge became a craving. I needed a cup of coffee. Any coffee... I wasn't fussy about the brand and quality. I'm not sure if this need is because I didn't drink any coffee or due to my mind deciding it wants the one thing I've decided that I can't have.

One thing is for sure, I felt really tired after work today. No caffeine except for the small bit in my morning oolong (which tastes like dust by the way). It could also be because I have been sleep late since Easter Friday though I suspect the coffee was keeping me.

Well let's see how this goes... I've been making up rules for this. As I go along. By the end of the 30 days - I'm going to nominate 3 people to take up my challenge with all the rules I followed.

That's all for today...

Bye Diary

A little leaf

It's a story about a leaf. It was born on a tree that hung over a small stream. The leaf grew in spring but it was only in summer did it realise that it was life. It admired the world around it as it gently played with the sun and the breeze, then one day it realised that down below the safety of the tree a steady stream flowed. The more it watched the stream the more jealous it became because the stream travelled far beyond what the leaf could see. However, as with jealousy,  there came a moment when the leaf realised that it was better than the stream because it was alive and anchored and stable. It got to play whilst the stream could only travel and never return home. The stream had no home and no family. Then one day the leaf noticed itself begin to change its colours. It was more beautiful now. More glorious than the transparent stream. The leaf was satisfied that it had reached its full potential to be magnificent and beautiful. It fluttered proudly. Then one cold morning the wind began to blow aggressively. The leaf had no time to preen because it had to struggle to stay attached to its home. Days passed and still it achieved it's goal but as the days passed the leaf began to realise that it had become old. Sadden with this revelation the leaf stopped fighting the wind and fell to its death. But dead it was not for the stream had caught it. How dare that stream try to keep it from its closure! The stream had always been jealous of the leaf and now it would take its revenge, or so the leaf thought. The flow of the stream was sometimes rough and sometimes calm but it never ended. Along the way the leaf began to lose some parts of itself but eventually it found that the stream became bigger. Bigger and bigger it had no end. It was too massive to ever be jealous of a leaf.  Alive it was not, but life it held. When the leaf let go of its pride and submitted  to the flow of life - it finally was no more, but part of much more.

By Amrisha Ramlakhan

I reserve all rights to this

Tale and old as Time

Dear Diary,

As certain as the sun raises in the east, Beauty and the Beast has for ever more been my favourite fairy tale… Though for many it is a sweet twist on the age-old classic story of Stockholm syndrome. Pretty girl, gets taken prisoner and ends up falling in love with her so called warden. But Beauty and the Beast is so much more than that. I find that the deeper I look, the more the more awestruck I feel by this Disney classic.

I caution that if you have not watched the movie, there will be come spoilers.

When we first come across Prince Adam, we see him as a spoilt brat that only looks at life in the most superficial of ways. For his ways he, and his castle and all that live in it, is cursed to become a hideous creature, until he can learn to love another and earn her love in return. For the most part, this at least creates the dramatic dynamic, and sets the space for some magical enchantment. Upon closer inspection, however, Prince Adam just had himself inversed. His ugliness came to the front for all to see, most especially himself, and his true beauty became hidden within. Like most people, Prince Adam, had to really look at himself, and even more – he had to dig deep to find his real beauty. Perhaps he was so busy admiring the outside that he forgot to admire his inside – perhaps deep down he was always loving and caring, he just had not given himself the opportunity to be who he really is. Even more closer and I see that perhaps becoming a beast was a sort of laboured effort to make someone really look at themselves. Maybe he had to see the ugliness so that he could know himself as who he does not want to be, so that he could be who he wants to be.

Peel back another layer and we see how angry the Beast was at being cursed and turned into a beast. Life is full of change, and most of the time we resent changes that come our way. Resentment usually plays out in anger, and most of the time we try to do things the same as we always have. Unfortunately, if you don’t adapt to the changes that come our way, you will end up trying to swim against the current, rather than going with the flow. You will never see the blessings if you only see change as a curse. If Prince Adam never became the Beast, he would never have found Belle, and more importantly, he would never have found himself. Often, things that seem unfortunate, are just necessary avenues for greater growth.

When we meet Belle, we find a beautiful, independent and self-motivated girl. She is not the typical Princess in a fairy tale. She doesn’t wait to be rescued, she goes off and does the rescuing herself. She doesn’t let people take advantage off, like the way she turned out Gaston. Most importantly Belle is not afraid to be herself, she doesn’t care if society accepts her or not, all that matters is being true to her beliefs and feelings. Unlike Prince Adam, Belle does not care for the aesthetics in life. Even more unlike Prince Adam, Belle is also quick to adapt to change, even if the change seems to be for the worst. She goes with the flow, instead of fighting the circumstances.

Mind you, Belle does try to run away from the Beast, but when he rescues her, she sees that there is more to him than the grumpy, angry Beast of a show that he puts on.  She is more open to seeing the real person inside, rather than basing her judgements on what she sees. Off course, she is sharp like a whip and realises that the Beast is really a handsome prince, caught in some enchantment – therefore the difference in species doesn’t seem to bother her that much.

I think the idea of entrapment is most obvious and yet subtle theme in the movie. The Beast may have the freedom to leave his castle at any given moment – however, he keeps himself locked away from society. He is trapped mentally within himself, and therefore his “four” walls. Though he is physically free, emotionally and mentally he is a prisoner of his circumstances and the way he views life. More than that, society shunned him for being so different. It didn’t take much for Gaston to get the entire village to join him in hunting the Beast. He was a prisoner of his own castle. So how free is he really?

Belle on the other hand was confined when she was free, and free when she was imprisoned. Being different, and having different ideals made her stand out in society. Though she was free to roam the streets of the provincial world she lived in, she longed for an escape. She may not have cared about the world’s opinion of her enough to change who she is, but she wanted an out from the typical life that society felt compelled in inflict upon her. When she swapped her life for her father’s, she gave up the freedom to go where she pleased, but she gained the freedom to be who she is, without being judged. She became free to live life on her own terms.

In this way, the Beast was as much a prisoner to himself, as Belle was to him – if that makes any sense. They were two people that didn’t fit into society. They were outsiders that found that being outside suited them just fine.

In most classic tales, the prince rides in and saves the princess. Princes always do the rescuing. They save damsels from hard time, dragons, high towers, and death (to name a few). But here we see that Belle is the one that saves the Beast. I mean he is a Beast, he has her imprisoned in his castle, her life seems to be filled with hard times – but she rescues him. She proved that women too are strong and their love can also save lives. She proved that she is not a victim of her circumstances, because she choose to turn the hardest thing that ever happened to her into the adventure of a life time.

There is so much to learn from this amazing tale as old as time. Let me know what your favourite parts of the Disney adaptation is.

I think, the most important thing about Beauty and the Beast is that the live action movie should arrive on screen on 17 March 2017, and I cannot be more excited to see Emma Watson become Belle.

Tata for now,

A.    Star

Unfortunate Tales of Cake

Dear Diary,

So, I tried baking again. It has been years, but I’m taking a chance. Who knows, maybe somewhere deep down inside me there is a baker waiting to break free. I know that if I keep trying eventually I can bake something that won’t be reported as a failed experiment that miraculously created a new type of fungus.

This time around, I was pleasantly surprised when I managed to bake a rather flat but still tasty chocolate cake. But as I sit here, wondering if the cake would have been bigger if I hadn’t forgotten to add baking powder, I started to re-live my top 3 baking catastrophes:

1.       

1.       THE CAKE THAT WOULDN’T BAKE

I wanted to be cool in High School. I don’t know why I thought baking was cool. I mean, it certainly made you popular, because who doesn’t love the kid with a Tupperware full of brownies? So in my attempt to be the cool baker I went home one afternoon and pulled up my mum’s trusted recipe book. Now you must know – my mum bakes the yummiest cakes, so naturally her recipe book must contain some decent recipes.

After a quick read through I thought I was ready. I mean cool kids only need to glance at something and then be amazing. I mean, I read The Secret enough times to know that projecting the image that you wish to see yourself as, is what will attract said image. I put the book away, the recipe book that is, and started to “bake”.

Apparently, ingredients need to be at room temperature when you start baking. I did not know this – not that it made much of a difference. I just went about pulling sugar, eggs, milk and flour from all over and plopping them into a large dish. I can’t even remember half the things I thought I read in the recipe – or the quantity.

By the time I was done, the batter was a strange yellowish brown colour. But it didn’t have any lumps so I was pleased. I didn’t know if the batter was supposed to be that colour. I didn’t know its life story or how it felt – I wasn’t going to judge it for being more yellow than brown, for a chocolate cake. So I greased a baking container and put it in the oven to bake.

Bake it did. It baked and baked and baked for more than one and half hours but it refused to stop giggling in the center. Eventually I called a friend and together we pulled out the terrific disaster steaming at us. It was gloomy looking - all shiny and yellowness now had a tinge of grey. It didn’t smell like cake, but in the delusional state of coolness that I was in, I promptly declared that the cake was self-saucing.

Still hopeful, I waited for it to cool before cutting myself a slice. My friend refused, in case of food poisoning. Relentlessly - I would not be discouraged – I dug in. The cooling had turned the liquid spots to a jelly like texture. So I chewed it – and chewed, until it felt like my stomach was trying to kick me in the chin for trying to swallow. I spat it out, brushed my teeth and then went about removing all evidence of that “cake”.

I’ve settled to never try to be cool in that way, ever again.

2.      2. THE MISTAKEN IDENTITY

A few weeks passed since the cake that did not bake. I plucked up my courage, or may be my stupidity and went forth towards my next baking mishap.

This time I thought I would try something simple. After searching through my mother’s faithful recipe book, I finally decided to bake some biscuits. This time I made sure to read the ingredients lists, pick them out and let them get to room temperature. I was determined that this would be it. I was finally on my way to baking something edible.

Unfortunately, my life never goes as I expect it too.

This time I accidentally pulled out gram flour, instead of corn flour. The end result was yellow. Again. It was too salty, and too nutty. Too weird. On the plus side, at least this time I could eat it without gagging.

3.       SAVOURY CAKE

Savoury cakes are awesome! It’s the best of both worlds. The yummy soft texture of a moist cake, combined with the satisfying saltiness of it all. I will, however, tell you want is not so nice – an accidental salty cake.

I suppose this is one of the most clichéd things I’ve ever done. Picking up salt instead of sugar isn’t all that hard to believe – except in my house it really was an astonishing task to complete. You see, Diary, the salt and sugar resided in two completely different containers. Different colours, different sizes and worse still – they lived in two different cupboards, so that this mistake should have never happened.

Should have, would have, could have. In the end, this cake was still not half as bad as the one that would not bake, nor is it the worst of all my endeavours. The reason it makes top 3 is purely on the difficulty level.
 
At the end of all this, I can officially say one thing that I know for sure:
My mother’s recipe book hates me.
 
That’s all I have for this week.

Love

A. Star

Tales of the Spoon Resort

Dear Dairy,

I just realized that I may have lost my teaspoon forever. I made hot chocolate, and for fun: I put some coffee in it. Then I left my poor old teaspoon in the cup when I sent it off for washing. This was my tragic mistake of the day. 

Spoons go missing in that kitchen.

I’m not sure if, in the kitchen, there is a Spoon God and we offer our good spoons to it, so that it may bless us with always having things that need stirring. I suppose that's unlikely because I'm sure that if you give something to a God, said God will give you more of it. That's when I thought, maybe the spoons escape from captivity in the kitchen, during wash time.

Oh dear me, Diary! How will I ever find my spoon if it escaped? At the very least, perhaps it will escape to a better place, like a spoon resort.

I wonder what goes on at the spoon resort. Do the spoons relax in a hot-tea-tub? Perhaps, instead of mud baths, they soak in Nutella jars and when they go for massages, they must get rubbed up with hot cocoa and lie on pillows of mini marshmallows. This spoon resort must be fancy, if they have mini mashmellows – I suppose before bed they have themselves polished and then get tucked into beds of soft velvet. Do you think that the spoons spoon when then they are in their velvet cases?

I wonder if this spoon resort has special facilities, like the soup spoons might want to get involved in the Soup Spoon Synchronized Swimming Squad, you know, for the spoon Olympics. Maybe they need great big bowls of soup to practice in and the spoon resort specializes in such facilities. That must be why the soup spoons escape – but it doesn’t explain why the teaspoons go too.

Do you know, Dairy, I am quite sure that this spoon resort must have some sort of hierarchy system. Maybe the serving spoons act as the royal guard for the tablespoon rulers. Perhaps the Ladles are priests in the spoon religion sector. That’s it! The teaspoons are the peasant slaves! Maybe they escape the kitchen, believing that there is a better life out there for them, in the spoon resort, but its all an elaborate lie to make slaves of them!

This still doesn’t explain sporks. Maybe there was a special programme to genetically modify the spoons so that they could become better in combat situations, so they spliced fork DNA into spoon DNA and thus the sporks were born. They too serve the Monarch, but as a secret spoon service. This explains why you almost never see spoons mingling with sporks.

Dairy! It just occurred to me, that the world is full of plastic spoons. I wonder how the other spoons feel about the plastic variety. They probably feel awkward, I guess. Perhaps plastic spoons were once like normal spoons but they were not happy with their aesthetics so they got plastic spoon surgery done. Now the other spoons judge them for being insecure, but not to their face. Some normal spoons might worship the cheaper plastic spoons. But I am sure that the majority of the spoons look down at them for being non-biodegradable.

And what for the wooden spoons? May be they manage the resort, sort of like a government. They can withstand a lot of heat, but will break under pressure. Once their good reputation is stained, they may never win it back. Wooden spoons are good at making promises of tasty food, but they never tell you that it’s the cook that makes the food tasty. Yes, I am sure that the wooden spoons run the whole scheme. Maybe, they use the slotted spoons to champion their causes. 

Who knows what the real inner workings of the great spoon society looks like?

Life of a spoon is difficult – almost as difficult as it is to be an awkward star.

Well chat soon…

Love

A.Star