During my pregnancy in 2006, a mum from Flying Solo got in touch with me after finding out about my predicament.

She then sent an email to me and another soon-to-be-mum. That was how I got to know an amazing, impossibly sexy, intelligent, strong-willed, yet utterly delicate lady, whose EDD was probably the same as mine (obviously some day in March was quite a popular day for babies making).

I have perhaps introduced her in my older post Baby Fabes last year, when her 2nd son came into this world.

It has been almost 4 years, and no, I still have yet to meet the lady, whose Fifi’s is 4 days older than Minibean.

I still have yet to meet the lady who had exchanged late night stories about life and babies with me..

Someday, maybe. But I think we both might find it too awkward.. cos there is just some magic in those exchanges that might not be brought forth in real life.

We are both INFPs for a reason, laughs.

Here, I would like to share an article from Merlanih, which was printed on Singapore Child Magazine, which I would like to share with you guys

And she probably did so much more than I did, some things which are probably what I always wanted to do, but lack serious balls to do.

For that, I salute such an intriguing lady, and a thoroughly dedicated mum in a foreign land.

Perhaps all the stories I have heard took form as I read her article, cos it was one that touched me greatly, though simple grazing of the story might just come to a naught for most of you guys out there.

Mer, Fifi and Baby Fabes would be so proud of ya when they grow up.

Here’s her article:

From as far back as I can remember, I have always wanted children of my own.  Now wind the clock forwards by two decades or so, and I find myself on a little Caribbean island complete with two beautiful mixed race children.  A picturesque sight, I am often told by others to my glowing pride as I watch the elder, Fidel (three going on sixteen), frolicking on the beach, throwing rocks in a puddle, his brown locks catching the sun.  Yes, he is definitely evolving into a little boy (correction: “I a beeeg boy, Mama! Mama, don’t call me Fifi, my name is Fidel, F-I-D-E-L!”); poking his fingers into every crevice, fingernails blackened from his daily escapades, sweat matting down the hair on his temples.  And such a penchant for music too; the people here have a natural, uninhibited sense of rhythm and this cannot be displayed more clearly in him.  Put on the calypso and watch him swing to the beat in true Caribbean style.  And then Fabian (nine months going on three)!  Growing increasingly confident in his wheelie walker and who, I am certain, tries his absolute best to nip your toes off each time he whizzes by at speed.  The younger definitely learns quickly from the elder: he now raises an arm with his hand clenched into a fist, ready to give you a “bops” when he meets and greets.  Yes, children nourish the soul and fill your day with laughs (“black cows have black milk”) and life would be exceedingly dull without them.

What is life like in the Caribbean?  Everyone urges to know.  Yes, it is a picture perfect place under the sun, complete with colourful boats dotting the horizon and miles of pristine beaches.  No, as much as I fantasise about it, I unfortunately do not lie idle in a hammock all day, rum punch in one hand, novel in the other (In any case, it would be virtually impossible to stay in a state of placidity for long without Fidel trying to turn me out of the hammock)  And yes, work is work; I am busy trying to carve out a successful career as a barrister while trying to achieve the status of supermum and ace DIY-er at the same time.  So the moral of the story for me at least, is that life goes on wherever the set is located.  Pierce through the idyllic beauty, and there are bills to be paid, work to be done, meals to be cooked, just like anywhere else in the world.  Daily life is a hectic routine of trying to spend as much quality time with Fidel, keeping Fabian’s development in check, holding the reins over the management of the home, dedicating time to the other half and last but definitely not the least, trying to make sure that the much-needed “me-time” does not escape what little remains of the 24 hours of the day.

When night falls, the little ones have finally given up their valiant struggle against sleep, even their dad is crashed out on the bed, and the house is overcome by sudden calmness.  It is always at this point that I am filled with a sense of total, peaceful bliss.  Thank you God, another fruitful day we have spent together as a family.  Thank you for the strength to overcome all our challenges, and to help us to stay together as a unit.  It is so easy for relationships to fall apart if we are not careful, and I thank You for your continuing guidance to make tomorrow an even better day for all of us.

Since taking on the role of a mother, I have never ever been as busy in my life, stretched in so many different directions.  Life would no doubt have been simpler had I decided to relocate back to Singapore: the support network of family to help nurture my children; a live-in domestic helper and babysitter rolled into one who would keep house and relieve me from my household duties; better amenities to cater to my needs.  Would I then consider moving back in time for the children to be schooled in Singapore?  This is a decision which I have been pondering over, so many factors needing to be considered.  Ultimately I enjoy the relative tranquility and closeness to nature which the Caribbean offers, and I do believe that my children are benefitting from it.  Yes, there are concerns about the quality of education available.  But how does one define “education”?  Personally it boils down to providing my children with the exposure and knowledge of different aspects of life: literary and mathematical literacy, oral proficiency, an appreciation for nature, music and other cultures, the ability to differentiate between right from wrong…

I watch Fidel running on the beach after his dad, nimbly skipping over the waves as they come in while Fabian who is perched on my arm, tries to nosedive into the sand.  Yes, I think that I have made the right decision in staying put.  This is the place where I want my children to spend this present stage of their lives; free, being able to expand their inquisitive minds, feel the soil under their bare feet, watch the fowl nestle on the trees at sunset, and to express themselves without undue sanction.  Upon discovering my new role as a mother, I vowed that my children would be raised to become confident, well-read and properly-guided individuals with a strong sense of self identity.  These will be the guiding morals which will continue to govern every decision which I make as it relates to their welfare.

And no, this does not mean keeping my children away from Singapore and their Asian roots.  Fidel has been to Singapore several times and we plan to be back every year or so.  Yesterday in the car, the little (read “beeeg”) precious says to me, “Mama, I want to be like my fadder, my fadder big and strong.  Mama, I have two fadders.  One in Angheeela, one in Shingapoh.”  In response to my requests for clarification, he says, “I have two mans. Papa and Gong-gong!” He also speaks animatedly about his toy collection back home; “Mama, I have a beeeg dinosaur in Shingapoh.  You know?”  They might have Afro-Caribbean, Chinese, Irish and Portuguese blood coursing through their veins, but they most definitely hold their Singapore connection very closely to their hearts.

Now as my household continues their slumber, I flick on the Food Network Channel, sink into the sofa which is at last vacated by the significant other and turn to my expanding manicure collection with glee.  Which colour catcheth mine eyes this fair night?  Precious undisturbed minutes dedicated to some frivolous decision-making.  Finally, time for yours truly.

I just want to say a big thank you to Glenn, who relentlessly helped me out when I messed up my site BIG time.

So now, my feeds are working fine, my wordpress is upgraded, and the permalinks are finally working fine!

So now I have my blog mojo back. *Beams*

And now, Minibean is onto the twitter wagon because she is spewing so much gems that I want to record every bit of it, so that one day I can blackmail her next time.

Or whenever I am feeling a tad weathered, I can just reminisce what she said to feel all warm and fuzzy again.

You can follow her here: www.twitter.com/minibeanism

It has nothing much to do with the dinner dates I have these days, but I have to say that the arrangements for things to happen did remind me about back in those days when I could still command some market value and would require a personal assistant to schedule my dates (cough, bullshit, cough).

These days, they are regarded as “meeting up with friends” for reasons possibly to do with age, mentality, and just an adverse fear towards the male species.

I mean, c’mon chaps, you think I will still fall for those unpolished moves and clumsy words you speak forth? Ha!

Fishball eyes? Out.

Touchy hands? Don’t let me break ‘em.

Boring conversations? I have more interesting things to do in my life, like having some me-time and doing things that don’t require me to have any conversation.

So yup, the safe precaution I take ended up to be meeting up with people whom I already knew for quite some time… or should have caught up, but just hadn’t got the chance to, and er, well, sometimes you just have to wait for them to gain permission (or freedom) to be able to catch up again.

And I realised with a few dinner dates with different chaps this week, reminded me of some part of dating I actually miss, though they might not be classified as dates, per se.

Like, say, I totally adore it when guys take charge.

They are gentlemanly enough to ask what do you like, and even if your answer is an annoying “Anything”, they are quick to suggest, “Japanese? You like sushi?”.

Now, it shows he is in charge, but at the same time, your opinion does matter.

Dinner time and place was set.

I am really the kind who is indecisive, and I like it when I throw the decision making to the chaps, and I will decide if I like it or not. I know lah, a bit whatever since I already said ANYTHING yet it doesn’t really mean ANYTHING. Say if the person says fish head curry, I probably will give a quick “Woops, I don’t take fish!”.

So if I really do not mind Japanese, but yet I don’t eat sushi, I will say, Japanese sounds great though I don’t take sushi, but I love teppanyaki and tempuras and the likes.

Another dinner kaki planned for a belated dinner with me, and ended up asking me what would I like to have.

After weeks of table-tennising, and plenty of “CAN YOU GO AND THINK ABOUT WHAT YOU WANT?!” (Piscean men, I TELL YOU!!!! Smack them ah!), and endless of “You go think about what you feel like having“, I know this kind of men, tsk, so I ended up telling him two magical words, “Pasta, town“.

Perhaps we have been chums for more than a decade work wonders, that I didn’t mind telling him to MAN UP in between rolled eyes.

I mean seriously.

But nonetheless, credits to him, to my utter pleasant surprise, he set the time and place upon the cues, so brownie points to that!

But I really find men to be such wusses when they keep asking you what you would like, and even when you blow your top with absolute frustration to tell them to BE A MAN and decide, they still ask you “what you feel like eating?!“.

It is. A.N.N.O.Y.I.N.G.

Can’t you bloody take charge?! Do you want me to decide that your underwear should be PINK colour?!

ROARRRRRR!

The thing I miss about dates is also the dressing up to the occasion, or the need NOT to. I don’t know, but there are some friends, even though just as friends, who you want to dress up for.

I have had girl dates before, and we go to a nice restaurant and just enjoy each other’s company with the fine food and drinks, and we totally dressed up for it, and the thrill of it beats any hot dates.

There are some chaps which you feel so comfortable that you dress down just so you could feel stripped bare before him. NOT LITERALLY, but you know what I mean.

And there are some where the dressing up is the highlight of the evening, where you just wanna impress someone, cos you bother to.

And then. The nice thing about dates is the element of surprise.

It is an absolute pampering when you turn up and realise how much research has been done to choose a nice restaurant tucked away in a special location, and it is somewhere you have never been to before.

It is no longer one of those franchised restaurants you frequent, or the eatery that has became a frequent joint because of your recommendation, because, hey, the man took charge here!

I always live for the experience, and thus, a brand new experience, and a brand new place might just be the refreshing change I need!

The lights, the ambience, and the anticipation of the food which starts you churning out blog reviews in your mind, and telling your friends how fabulous the place is, though sometimes you have to add in “Pity about the date though“.

End of the day, despite the bad date, a fabulous place and a new gem of an eatery discovered, is still a fruitful date, and it feels like some effort and research had been done to make you feel special (Say, Ting, have you been to Restaurant ABC?), though the restaurant probably recognizes him for the different dates he brings.

But most of all, the things you discover during dates, like the elements to the character of the guy sitting before you, as his impression builds, and how you slowly find your comfort level before him, the bantering, the giggles, the easy conversations, the casual flirting, and the slight blush….

.. Or even the pom pom tiao feeling.

That would set pace for a much longed-for after-meal drinks, or the lack of would mean me finding excuses to scoot off to spend time in bed, online, or just indulge in ample me-time.

Ah… bliss.

***

It has been a while and I have found the words that I used to be so familiar with hardly come out as freely as before.

I finally have some time to start writing again, though the process of backlogging is going to be a tedious one with 1/4 of years of my memories becoming a tad too hazy.

Still pretty much a half-hearted effort, but slowly, but surely

Finally loaded all the pictures!

It has been a long while since I had an amazing work-day like last Thursday.

After a loooonnnggggg day at work to prepare for Popular Bookfest (go check it out at Suntec Convention Hall 4 if you hadn’t for all the great bargains!), I quickly reached out for my bag to head down to Orchard Building (where California Fitness is), where I was supposed to meet up with Siren.

Just couple of weeks back, a very cool, smart, sexy, hot, kind, conscientious friend of mine who has big…. heart had asked if I would be free, as there would be a cool launch going on, and I was welcomed to join in the fun.

And how coincidental could it be that I later found out that the launch was ran by an ex-classmate of mine?! Talk about how small the world indeed is

I decided to pop by after a long work day, to check out the newly launched Heineken Boutique Bar right outside California Fitness.

I was pretty impressed by the concept (so0oo cutttee!), as I didn’t know what to expect, and was surprised when I had food and drinks shoved in my face cos I had initially thought it was just gonna be a random roadshow for me to pop by to say hi to the lovely ladies.

And everyone knows, got free canapés and drinks will make me a very happy camper!

The boutique bar drew plenty of attention and would fit in aptly the Christmas decorations along Orchard Road from 10th to 27th December!

And if you are wondering what the boutique bar is reaaaallllyyy about… perhaps the popular Heineken Walk-in Fridge ad would ring a bell or two.

I remember when the ad was just launched, it was my favourite ad, not because I enjoy looking at the plump bloke screaming to the point of crying (though he really was the one who made me laugh out loud whenever I watched the ad), but because…. it was Minibean’s favourite ad.

I remember I was proudly telling my friends how much of a girl Minibean truly is.

Whenever the ad came on, Minibean would just go all quiet and stop whatever she was doing and run towards the television screen for her preparation.

Just when the ladies step into the walk-in wardrobe, she would start to scream together with the ladies, with her palms raised just like the ladies. She would jump and squeal and shout and…. yeah, behave like a girl would in a walk-in wardrobe like that.

And then, she would just grin and stare at us when the blokes scream in the walk-in fridge, and she would just stop.

Sorry Heineken, she is just a lady at heart, and hey, she is not of legal age yet, so pardon her for her lack of enthusiasm for the walk-in fridge.

But the ad was one that would always make us laugh, probably because how Minibean related to it, and it was the one ad she related to the most.

The Boutique Bar had drew its inspiration from this ad, and I was immediately wishing I had Minibean with me for the occasion!

So. Which side are you on?

Since Siren was held up, I took the chance to catch up with the cool, hot babe, and my ex-classmate, and pretty much found out the background to this idea. Of course, I shan’t mention the men-watching part, which I got my taste seriously doubted. HAHAHA!

It is so cute to bring the concept out of the screen and onto the streets for the festive season! Talk about tongue-in-cheek and a clever marketing idea!

Half of it is a show case for the latest festive fashion essentials from some of the trendiest brands, and the other, as you guessed it, is an amazing walk-in fridge! And to bring the best of both worlds together, for the next couple of weeks, there will be weekly specials and exclusive gift vouchers for the fashionistas while they stop by for a pit-stop at the walk-in fridge!

I shy to choose lah!

I was half-wondering if this was there to warn those who OD on Heineken at the launch event.

The fashion half of the Boutique Bar, featuring Fred Perry first:

Siren was busy at work and joined me slightly later, but when she came, we decided to show the crowd what, ahem, good sport we are!

And we made our choice clear.

Fashion?

Yawns.

Really.

Who cares?

Whatever.

Though yes, you probably have your vision stuck at the bottom left half of the picture. Giggles.

And when we got to the Walk-in fridge, with the crowd out there……………..

………………………

Ready for it?!

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! MY ARMS VERY FAT AHHHH! I blame the muscles built up over poley.

Ended being so shy with the people looking on outside. Giggles.

Decided to stick with being demure!

I should have done Minibean’s favourite gesture, you know, the guy with his palms up and waving them in disbelief, and then clapping with tears in his eyes?!

Me and Siren getting ready for the fabulous walk-in fridge!

I think Heineken should have gotten us for the local version of the ad, when we did it over so many times, and even once I grabbed Siren’s hands and jumped a little as if.. as.. if.. as if.. we won the Toto!

Giggles, quite shy you know?!

But it was damn fun can! And you could even try to destress by going down to the walk-in fridge to do one of those screams, or catch people like me doing it!

Don’t ask me what was I doing, like Chinese New Year Gongxi gongxi, though it reminded me of long long ago, when I was once a Tiger Beer girl during Chinese New Year.

Now, I probably can be Tiger Beer auntie liao hahahahaha!

The best part was we walked away with 6 cans of Heineken, and a damn cool cooler box:

We have very happy boys who met us for dinner.

***

We walked over to meet Jo and Jing after doing our screams, and lugging our cool boxes over to Paragon. Had dinner at Big O, though I would say the virgin meetup was less tense with Siren being the ice-breaker to 3 very shy ladies hahaha.

Ed and James joined us shortly after, and the holy drinks were passed to the chaps, and they were lamenting that they don’t get such invites, but I half suspect that they would probably be really screaming with tears in their eyes if they were in the walk-in fridge, no act required.

After dinner was a longgg walk to Ion Longchamp, where Jo got her limited edition Longchamp bag. Clar clar will be so proud of me.

We were supposed to chill at Ice Cold Beer after bidding Jo and Jing goodbye, and I bumped into an ex-colleague Paul as I was dragging my heels over.

It was nice catching up, and I was teasing his friend, an ICA employee that I am an illegal immigrant, and for a second I thought he might think we were serious.

The chaps were standing around when we reached, and we ended up taking a cab to watch Zombieland at a vacant office, and it was just so cheesy but rather entertaining.

Serenaded by bad singing, before calling it a night at 2ish in the morning. The guys pretty much finished the beer, and Siren had insisted on keeping her cooler box, and I had wanted to keep mine too, but decided to part with mine, since James had offered his place for gatherings in the future, and I thought it would be perfect for all of us to utilise the cooler box that way.

I had joked I would probably use the cooler box to store breastmilk.

Something about the simplicity of the day that had made it all pretty. It could also be the fact that the load of nice people I met that had helped to lighten the long, harsh day at work.

I had one of the worst sleep in a long while and I think I was conscious most of the evening on Friday, but yet I feel the need to complete this post just before I head out to busy myself for Minibean’s party (which means more blogging to come!) on Saturday.

Unfortunately, I didn’t manage to do so with the tight timeline, and here is the late post that should have been up much earlier!

Wednesday and Thursday were dedicated to Siren turning legal. Cough, yes, that’s right. Legal.

Wednesday was decorated with a sweet lunch with my other female colleagues, right at the pantry overlooking the bay and Esplanade, and having casual chats.. it was a great lunch.

A colleague also made my day when I found a lil pressie wrapped in red on my table. It was a copy of The White Tiger. So sweet!

Of course, there were also funny booboos like me calling up a work partner and then started chatting to him and then 10 minutes into it he asked, “why are you speaking to me not my managers?”

Apparently I got the wrong person. Wooooooooooooops.

10 minutes for me to realise that. Well done.

***

I was invited to join Siren for her birthday dinner on Wednesday evening after a very bad day at work, which resulted in me having an early coffee with Vandalin and his colleagues/boss, while waiting for Siren to knock off.

I was told to stay in the light and not go clubbing ever, cos I look “much much worse” in the dark.

WOEEEEEEEEE ISSSSSSSSS MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.

I think it is just the lack of makeup that made that difference.

By the time evening came, I joined Siren and her colleagues at her office before we headed to Pan Pacific Suites’ Oriole.

As usual, I ordered a medium rare beef burger.

Though I must say the Carbonara risotti looked really awesome when the others ordered it.

Charlotte and Stacy looking gorgeous.

Us at Oriole!

Everyone getting trigger happy.

Shawn and Siren. Young, sweet doctor. Woohoo!

Did we mention something about debauchery? So how can we miss her titties out?

Charlotte grabbed the attention successfully from the birthday chick and Stacy.

Here’s the surprise cake that explains the surprised look on the birthday girl:

Making a wish, and hope your wish will come true my dear

We sat around and exchanged some horror stories, especially the one about Oreos and BOs.

Birthday girl and a very chui me.

The focus of this picture should be on Char’s boobs.

Seriously. Paranormal Debauchery going on there?

Finally when she stops moving around and the commissioner of the picture stops jerking her hands about!

Me and Char before she had to rush off!

Birthday girl and me!

Where we were

Trying to show the dress in the mirror.

Cheyenne joining me in the toilet!

We had more interesting chats about a woman in red in a life in Penang and other Fullerton Hotel stories, before we called it a night and headed down to Wala Wala.

Where we met up with Jaywalk and his close friend.

We didn’t stay for long before heading to Adam Road for supper.

Sibei sinful! Peppery mutton soup, and cups of sugar-intenstive teh-o-pengs before we called it a night and headed home for more chillax over videos and all.

***

I thought Thursday was great until I reached work and saw a shiny sheen to my poor Bbag.

Ouch.

Someone has broken my heart, badly.

Apparently, Minibean had used a lipstick to colour my poor, lovely Bbag’s vulnerable leather. AND, the interior. Now, that explains why all my belongings were getting pinkish.

And a good stick of Mac lipstick (and yes, the only Mac lipstick I can after the other one went mysteriously missing), gone, no more, boom, kaaaappppoooooottt BAH!

BOOOHOOOOHOOOO!

Though I felt the pinch I wasn’t too upset, cos afterall, she’s just a child, and probably trying to express her creativity.

Someday when she grows up I will show her the evidence and maybe I could demand 10 from her. HOHOHO. What a plan, and investment.

Thankfully, I didn’t get the white one! So there is still some silver lining if I insist to draw one to it.

It was also the day when the impromptu plan to hold a mini party for Minibean took place, and a flurry of activities took place, which included trying to get her a cake in such short notice.

Finally it was time to leave office and I grabbed my poor, bruised bag towards the exit, and then I realised my coin purse was left behind.

And I didn’t have my key card with me.

So I waited, and waited, and waited.

Until a colleague appeared and I asked her for help for access.

She then looked at me, pointed to my chest, before I realised the key was hanging by my neck.

ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRR!

Where got people so stupid one!?!?!?!?

Got lah, me lah, but still! ARHHHHH!

As I walked towards the salon to get my fringe cut (mega regrets, cos they screwed it up pretty badly, but nevermind, hair will grow out one anyway, I will just look toot toot for my daughter’s party that’s all… BOOOHOOO!), I found 3 strands of grays and plucked them out from the roots.

SO DEVASTATING!

HAVE I BEEN OVER STRESSED?!

Then huh, they are alllllllllllllllllllll from the root to the ends, and how did they manage to over-ride the hair dye and just make me aged like that?!

So powerful?!

It was a good Thursday, when 3 emails came in that brightened my day! Talk about timing and coincidences.

It was then a rush to an event Lynn (thanks dear for the invite!) had extended an invitation to, which she had coerced me into when she mentioned how she would not get paid if no one turns up.

I asked Siren along, for some company at Merchant Square, and it was a health talk that was pretty relevant to us. Coughs. Laughs.

I particularly enjoyed the goodie bag and the buffet, though the uncanny resemblance of the first doctor to Jack Neo was tickling me. The 2nd female doctor was so incredibly sexy, and got us panicky about our wellness and, uh, hormones! It says something about me getting old, I am sure.

We headed straight to Holland Village, for Wala Wala (yet again!), to join Jaywalk, his friend and his friend’s THE BOOMZ (hahaha!), and the very sweet JunKey (get online biatch!) for some chillax drinking, with constant messages telling us about the almost warzone upthere.

And what’s a debauchery without these:

I bumped into an old friend, and I squealed in delight of seeing him again after so long, and didn’t realise how small the world had became.

And it just kinda sad to know that sometimes, along the way, the simplest looking people, can spin up the most complicated story just for the thrill of it all.

And just before we went up to hear the band out for the night:

It has been a long while since I was confronted by such a big crowd. I was just pretty much pleased with playing chaperon for the night, though I have to admit how intimidating it was to be out in crowded places again…

There was a constant urge to run for the exit, or just dash for a dark corner.

Though I met a very sweet Cindy who has awesome memory to remember me from the post-Minibean, 24-hours long Battlefield 2 days.

I had to ask her if I was mean to her that’s why she remembers me so well, but thankfully, hahaha, I didn’t!

The birthday boys and girl, each rewarded with one cupcake each, possibly to line their tummies for the ultimate treat.

The waterfall!

How kind of the others.

Birthday boy and girl, with the ghost in red haunting in the background.

KUA TIOOOO GUIII!!!!!!

Me and the happily drunk birthday girl!

And I believe Ruok receiving a gesture for every affection shown.

Laughs.

It wasn’t long before Siren was drunk and doing Sharon Stones, as well as falling asleep when she was on a cig break.

All of us started to pacify her home, telling her she had fell asleep for 2 hours on the chair (haha sorry darling I came up with the lie!), after she had puked in the middle of the carpark, and having our shoes covered in the… meal we had at the seminar. Oh wait, or was it the cupcake? It was too much a mess for me to figure out, really.

And you probably have seen this on other sites already, but tadang……….

Make sure you have an as nice an ass when you wanna get drunk and can’t walk a straight line, or avoid having friends like Jaywalk.

Giggles.

I am sure there was an interesting podcast somewhere, of us when we sent Siren home.

I dropped off to catch a cab to Balestier to joy the chaps for supper, and yums!

Though I had to endure the laughs from them when I said how much I want to return to Italy, go to Egypt and Nepal, and how Jordan and Machu Picchu are places I would love to go.

They laughed at Pikachu!!!!! And Michael Jordan!!!

I had to wiki on the spot for them to stop laughing at me.

Tsk!

It all started when the awesome sweetness of a boyfriend had reflected how his girlfriend wanted to go Rome and I told him, with pictures illustrated, HOW HE SHOULD REALLY BRING HER!

And then before I had finished recounting Italy, I had suggested to him to make a trip to UK and Paris as well, and how one of the most beautiful thing I have ever done was to skate in the public, in an open space, on a chilly, star-filled night, in Paris Disneyland with a group of great chums.

Of course, he should check out thr Lourve, Versailles, and Eiffel is pretty interesting.

Then I eventually said, “GO ON A  FULL EUROPE TOUR!” with aplenty of excitement.

Then he got hyped on the Colesseum, and had to endure my sugar-high recollection on Trevi fountain and Vatican City. And Pompeii.

I really do hope he will love the place.

We started talking about wonders of the world. It was a night I actually felt very much alive and enriched.

It was almost 4ish. But it was nice.

I got back to see Siren online and telling me how evil we were and how she had woken up from her drunk state, and very much well recovered.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABE!!

Be happy, and hopefully you will find the person to restore the warmth, the trust, give you a reason to “young-er” your soul, subtract the cynicism. and give you a real, sensual, meaningful hug for you to feel safe all the time.

Of course, he is going to be weaponed with a big kkj, and gives you plenty of good sex.

(Very important!)