sugar honey bun

Kuching Plaza after its glory days
Sugarbun was one of the first home-grown franchises in Kuching. The flagship store was next to the Federal Hotel (now Merdeka hotel) at the first shopping mall in town - Kuching plaza. There, the first escalators in Sarawak were put in and immediately proved popular with kids who went up and down endlessly. Kuching plaza was built after I went abroad ("very glary and full of fiends waiting to snatch at your money belt"), and on my first visit back, was taken to Sugarbun by my granny who insisted on treating me to a meal there. They had a wonderfully soft, pasty, white dough roll with sugar sprinkled over it - their flagship product as it were. It was delicious with a hot coffee. I think that was a rare glimpse into my future - I say this because I can already see myself in the days to come at Tim Hortons having my double-double and a Canadian Maple.

There are worse ways to go
All this comes to mind because I've been reminding myself this week over and over again that, "sugar is not the answer".

No question was ever answered by ingestion of sugar. Instead, all eating sugar does is put you in some form of stupor that dulls your mind and makes you think that you have an answer. Then when you wake from the stupor, you realise that the answer you so cleverly came up with was no answer at all, fall into a state of depression, and eat more sugar...and you can see how the cycle perpetuates itself.

Sugar - so addictive and insidious. Lovely, lovely, lovely sugar.

But - I shall be firm. I will cut out as much sugar as I can from my diet. But one must start slowly so before I do, I will systematically eat all the sugary items from my cupboard first. I shall report back in 6 months when everything the sugar is all gone.

There in spirit if not in person, and certainly not an ICB
Last week, the inner city circle bitches gathered on the patio of the shoebox because there had been grumbling about a paucity of invitations, there were some who wanted to check out my transformer chairs, and most importantly a new pizza place, Pizza Carano had opened down the street from the shoebox. Very chi-chi interiors, all black with energy wasting incandescent lights and thumpa-thumpa music. They came, they drank, we ordered pizza bianco except for one who insisted on a pizza margherita. All pizzas were delicious and washed down with more drinks and a token salad followed by Nigella's Guinness cake. There were oohs and ahhs over the light show that Mama Nature put on - the shoebox faces West and the sun was out that day. There was talk of Italy, capaciousness, some carping but no capriciousness. There was more talk of this and that, but nothing of import as should be the case on occasions such as this. All in all a lovely evening, and the first of the dining al fresco events with, one hopes, many more to come.

The effects of breathing in too much Plutonium are not pretty
Breathing - must breathe more. Oxygen - so life calming. There was another little thing due today, and we made it with 4 minutes to spare. I kid you not. Good thing no computers crashed at the last moment, or there would have been tears (ours) and blood (IT people) and I'd be drinking heavily now. There's always tension when you wait - sometimes more when it's certain people you're waiting for than others - but be that as it may. Remembering to breathe helps with the tension and the feeling of doom and sour acid in your stomach. I hope that one day I either learn to wait without acidity building up in my stomach, or something happens to stop the acidity, and I'd rather the latter than the former. Actually, I doubt that I'll ever figure out the former because after all, I'm in pH 5 and one must live up to one's domicile, must not one? In any case, it is a bit wearying - all this waiting and being washed about in acidity. So Breathe, breathe and breathe more but hopefully one isn't breathing plutonium in and out like poor Kate sang about.


**Memang lagi ada harapan. Dgn harapan datang juga cabaran. Aiyoh, susah-lah sometimes.