eating blind

Have you ever wondered what it's like to be blind? To not see the sun everyday or see what you look like in the mirror?  I have.  Call it weird but there were instances when I found myself thinking how I'd cope if I became blind; like those panicky times when my contact lens got stuck inside my eye for a day and I couldn't get to my opthalmologist fast enough. 

During one of those numerous teambuilding activities I've been to, there was this one activity that asked us to choose our own partners and each of us would take turns being blindfolded while the other does the leading.  The lights were then dimmed.  This gave the illusion of blindness to the ones in blindfold.  I can tell you right now it's not a pleasant feeling.  It's not so much as not being able to appreciate things with your eyes but rather the helplessness of it.  Having to depend on someone else to guide you while you walk, eat or even sit isn't fun at all.  Total dependency and trust on one person is kinda scary don't you think?

Anyway, thoughts of blindness was triggered by this article I just read in the NY Times.  It's this new concept restaurant that is cropping all over the globe that calls for dining in the dark.  In this setting, you are literally at the mercy of the waiter.  Some believe the concept allows the other senses to be heightened when sight is deprived, allowing for better appreciation of food in terms of smell and taste;  other such restaurants simply have the most basic reason: to allow the blind to have decent jobs.  It's an interesting concept whichever way you look at it.  One that I'm interested to see happen on our end of the spectrum.

And yes, the waiters/servers are wearing night-vision goggles.

story of the growing gator, day 2

The first thing I did this morning when I woke up around 9 AM was check on my hatching gator.  Much to my delight, it's half out of its shell already.

By noon, my gator was almost out of its shell.

I'd better start thinking of names for him.

icky things 1: airbugs

UGH.

If there's one thing I hate the most in this world, it's bugs.  Particularly the ones that fly (or airbugs as I call them).  For reasons that continue to baffle me until now, they have this knack of flying in from the outside and I live more than 10 storeys above ground level.  Understandable if they crawled in from the walls, under the door or from the hallway outside my apartment but fly in…through the window? 

A lot of Sundays, during my first year stay at my apartment, meant running around my place with a broom at one hand and a can of Baygon on the other.  After half a can of Baygon, total disarray of my living room furniture and an hour of my life, I would triumphantly dump the dead airbug into the trash chute.  It took me a while to realize where these airbugs were actually coming from and when I finally discovered that they actually fly in to my place through the window near my couch, I decided to close that window.  My airbug visits actually lessened.  What used to be a routine Sunday visit from this disgusting bugs has turned into a once in a while thing.  One Sunday while I was watching TV, I heard this distinct "plonk" and peered out.  Much to my glee, I saw this huge airbug on its backside, wriggling for dear life. One for mankind and Zero for the bugs. 

side story:  Maybe it's the window?  One time, a Maya bird managed to get in to my room through the window.  It flew around in a frenzy trying to escape and I couldn't do anything since the windows were opened to its limit and the panicky bird was actually scaring me.  So I just stood there watching helplessly as the bird flew around the room, repeatedly bumping into the walls and closet and window.  At one point, it got so tired that it flopped down my pillow and for a few seconds I actually thought it dead from exhaustion or from all that bump it took.  But then it suddenly flew up again and repeated the same process all over again. 30 minutes later it finally managed to fly straight out the window. I'm sure all the bumping around has left its mark on the poor bird.

Going back…

My 2nd year stay brought even lesser visits (about 5) since I was always out of town and my place was sealed like a tomb.  And yet, each I got home there was always a dead airbug waiting for me to clean up.  I didn't mind that much so long as nature did the killing instead of me.

This year was the best so far as I've only gotten 1visit.  That is, until today.  Since there was no airbug when I got home anywhere in the house last night, I assume the airbug I found in the common bathroom came in sometime early morning.  This one was lying prone on its backside. I got a broom and prodded it gingerly.  Got scared out of my wits when it wriggled around violently.  Why can't these things die after an hour on their backside???  Why??  So I gave it a good whack, shoved it into the trash bag and gave the bag a good 3 sprays of Baygon before sealing it tightly.  I was hoping it would suffocate to death.  Ah hour and 45 minutes later the airbug finally gave up its valiant fight for life.  If it were some other creature, I would've felt guilty when I heard it wriggling around in the trashbag.  Since it was my most hated bug nemesis, I've no sympathy for it.

2007 - Total airbug visits (and killed): 2