St. John's

These are my last school holidays. About this time next year, after I finish my SPM, I won't be having school holidays. No, I would be done with school - secondary school - forever. It's December now and Christmas is coming; I'd say time is slipping away if I'd ever gotten hold of it in the first place. But I'm not complaining. I'm tolerably happy with how I've spent my hols so far. Watching as many movies as I can, watching my TV shows, reading (Shakespeare), malling, sleeping, eating, blogging. It doesn't take much to make me happy.

Today was my third visit to the kitchen at St. John's, and through skillful coercion I managed to get Gan to come along with me. I feel rather a veteran now with the food preparation, washing and cutting vegetables (WE DON'T DO THE MEAT HAHA!), although serving is never the same from day to day. I think I know how to deal with the homeless people now, though - I don't talk to them. Or take notice of them when they get pushy. Or look at them when they're staring. And we definitely do not believe them when they come up to us in serious, authoritative tones saying they need to interview us for something, do we, Gan? I'm sorry I keep calling them homeless people, I don't know what else to call them. Actually, some of them really don't look homeless to me. Dyed hair, big shades, handbags and necklaces and all. But who can blame them - it's free food, much better than the food prefects get to eat at camp, and the menu varies each day. If you don't mind the oily plates. The homeless are required to wash up after themselves (thank God) and they don't do it very well. The first day I was there me and Chris re-washed the 120 plates because we were so disgusted. Now I don't bother anymore lol.

The homeless ones I really do admire are the ones who actually help out. I've volunteered thrice and there are always only the same few people who are there in the morning to lend a hand. I can't help respecting them for at least working a couple of hours for their food. Somewhere down the scale there are those uncles who at least help to arrange the plates of rice or pour out the tea. It's better than merely waiting like anxious wolves for the food to be served before pouncing. And believe me they do pounce. No, it's not just my imagination. One of the nice guys helping out today decided to rescue me by taking over my job as the chicken-server and letting me have his task of dishing out vegetables instead. People harry the chicken-server, you see, but not the vegetable-disher. Well. I did do fish and chicken on the previous days, it's just that today the crowd was extra testy.

And yeah, in case you missed out on that digit earlier, we average on about 120 customers a day.

My parents, and my dad, specifically, are very happy about me volunteering at St. John's. After I wrap up at 12.30, my mom comes from work, and my dad from the house, so we can all have lunch together in KL.

KL FOOD!!!

Lol.

Three more days to fulfill my 24 hours.

Oh, and sometimes monopolising your own glass of kopi o' ping turns the world into a sharper, more defined place. It's a drug.