ill and exhausted from late nights and daily driving lessons. plus, i seem to have misplaced my glasses so am quite blind and cannot be held reprehensible for any sort of mishap round the house.
aforementioned notwithstanding, i have had a blast this week: braving the downpour scuttling around clarke quay with lee bri + clare; ordering one of every sort of dessert available to-go past closing time from riciotti and feasting on the 15 of them surreptitiously alongside ice-cream @ haagen daz outside food was not allowed but disregarding such policies has never been much of a problem; zipping down to immigration to renew all our passports with shawn&cheryl whilst babysitting a 12-month-old stranger who had never seen the world beyond his crib and was so terrified of us that he Cried Silent Tears i like!, which alarmed us a fair bit postulating that our charge May Or May Not Be autistic; a relaxing supper+desserts at the coffee club to calm thy frazzled nerves.
and still more to come.
on a side note, my passport photographs always come out pretty gnarly. there's my ic in which i look like a fucking jailbird, and the two taken yesterday could represent the addams family, which is actually not that far off considering i used to be called Wednesday back in sec2 by the classmates. apparently, there was some form of resemblance - a claim i never quite bought.
for the record, i really abhor zouk. the only thing worse than a club crammed beyond maximum capacity is one which has people awkwardly attempting to reproduce bodily movements from music videos in one's path which, i must add, is nowhere near the dancefloor while one is trying to flee overwhelming claustrophobia so believe you me when i say never again will i visit on mambo nights unless accorded vip status. |