Dim sum lunch (not from today, which shouldn't be surprising as I hardly ever post pictures in a punctual order. I follow the hmm-I-feel-like-writing-about-THIS-now Iman order, which is defined as order only in my own little topsy turvy world. Hmm I am digressing. Actually meandering while writing or speaking is also a big feature in Iman's Way of Thinking and Order of the World as my conversational tangents make sense to me but no one else. If you think I am exaggerating about meandering you should see my financial modelling excel spreadsheets, which are elaborately linked masterpieces spanning several colorful worksheets although apparently conventional wisdom dictates that it is more logical to have minimal straightforward spreadsheets. On the plus side it means nobody can ever decode my spreadsheets, so they can't be duplicated. Hmm this has now become the largest bracketed aside ever) from a Chinese restaurant in KLCC.
Similar to the not-so-secret sporadic pangs of longing that I experience to be Indian because I love Indian food and Indian weddings, are my more sporadic desires to be Chinese because I love dim sum. I also like the idea of Chinese weddings (the hearty yam sengs and the fact that the bridal couples make money from the wedding, because it's like a profitable party) so this is enough reason to feel random urges to want to be Chinese. I do NOT like Chinese desserts, however, but I have worked it out (in an elaborately linked excel spreadsheet) and should I ever suddenly become Chinese, I will just eat egg tarts all the time in lieu of other yucky desserts that contain red bean and yam paste and sago and all that. Crisis diverted! God, I am ready to be Chinese now. Or Indian. Either one.
