Weekends in print.
music: ingrid michaelson ft. jason mraz - you and i (live)






dinner at eil's. thai chicken salad. prawn pesto tagliatelle. flourless chocolate cupcakes. grey goose cocktails. floating on our backs. goodbyes. rainy days. good friday indoors. chick flicks and a surprise striptease. seafood cream angel hair pasta. shrunken lemon curd tarts. klee. raspberry mojito. spruce burger. the worst lemon meringe pie in history.

Hello again. I momentarily forgot all about indulging my inner-narcissist and the next thing I know, two weekends have zipped by. They've been good though - a healthy mix of swirling activities and lazy me-time. Work's eased off a tad and I've been working on reconnecting with weeknights which are now mine again. This inevitably means surfing travel sites, which explains my impromptu tickets to Perth. Finally I'm going downunder! I'm totally psyched! Fremantle, Swan Valley, Margaret River... ooh don't get me started.

Early this week, I said goodbye to the pool I've spent so many days of my youth at. Soaking up the sun, learning how to plunge, practising a very dismal dolphin style, talking about love and life between laps... I'm thankful CH's left the condo only to move into another apartment in our neighborhood. Good Friday was spent in good shelter with the rain pouring outside, slurping seafood pasta and drinking yummy (now I don't use this often for wine) Moscato, chomping down on ruined lemon curd tarts and garlic chips, doubling over with laughter at Olive's totally unexpected striptease in Little Miss Sunshine and cooing at the sappy scenes in The Lake House.

I finally got to check out Klee last night as well, after a day of morning yoga and brunch with my folks. It was closed for a private event E had an invite too, so I got to sip my drink it a relatively empty bar with no hints of the maddening queues I've read about. A raspberry mojito and a whiskey sour later, an impromptu visit to a suddenly booming Spruce and my insistence that we wait for a table had us seated near the back of house. It was a cool night, and all the better to chomp down on our burgers messily I say. The Spruce Burger wasn't as good as I remembered it to be, but aren't most things? It was too late to feed my tiramisu craving when we finally got to the darkened shopfront of Da Paolo Gastronomia, so we ended up settling at a cafe for a dessert platter and the worst lemon meringue pie EVER. We could taste sugar granules and a hint of the ocean in the filling. Seriously fishy, but all in good fun. It reminded me of the time we were in a teahouse that was a supposed institution in Mumbai and ordered drinks that tasted like drain water.

Skimped out on bits and pieces here, but it sounds like two well-spent weekends no?

So, change is really the only constant huh?

So, change is really the only constant huh?

Once in awhile, we're faced with situations that force us to reconsider and address what we thought was ingrained in us. It is enlightening as much as it is unsettling, so I like to think of it as part of my growing process.

On a different note, I couldn't help but wonder as I arranged the pictures - Am I busier than I think I am?



Just in - Pictures from B's birthday/housewarming barbecue on Saturday.




The Spottiswoode gang's annual mooncake gathering.


It was Tzin Ling's birthday, so what better way to celebrate on Mid-Autumn than with a birthday mooncake? We're innovative, not cheapskate.


Going to the beach's the only logical thing to do when the sun's out. Keeping in style with my newly embraced no-planning mantra (more about that in a separate post), I abandoned my plans to stream Gossip Girl and start on my travelogue, and instead packed up for an impromptu beach trip with Ken this afternoon.


Blue skies and relentless sunshine. And as I had just borrowed a copy of Sex and the City from the library, I thought I'd order a different cocktail and have a Cosmopolitan instead. Still prefer my favourite Mojito, though the Cosmo did lull me to sleep under the shade. I'm still sunburnt despite my attempts at minimal exposure. "Je suis rose," I told B when he called earlier. I am pink! But knowing my skin, it'll probably subside by tomorrow.

I had just about enough time to squeeze in a run before Gitte came for her piano lesson. Though the scorching evening sun left my throat parched halfway through, I unknowingly shaved a minute and a half off my usual timing (note to self: play Hootie and the Blowfish for a faster run).

The GST offset letter just came in the mail, like an early birthday present of sorts. Guess I can now afford to be a tad more lenient with my three-months-to-Bali saving plan. But along with the GST letter came an overdue statement update from my Europe jaunt. I've glanced through it briefly, and the offset package is far from balancing it out. I've thus chosen denial. Haha.

Weekends that start on Thursdays.

Weekends that start on Thursdays.

Though sleepy, I'm feeling pretty perky because I'm done with G. Tan's lessons for the week. I thought I liked writing, but corporate writing (coupled with a one-hour deadline) leaves me feeling pretty darn drained and incompetent. I have half a mind to steal a catnap in bed, but I've got loads to do before zipping out to meet B after teaching piano later.

The weekend (and almost half of this week) has pretty much flown by, not only because B is in Singapore. There was CH's birthday, and all the late nights have left me pretty exhausted, and it always feels like there's never enough time when one wants to sleep in, no?

After Thursday's bar hopping with B and his friends, I hung out with Ceci over non-alcoholic drinks and pizza at California Pizza Kitchen on Friday. Always feels good to slow down and enjoy good food with one of my best friends. We had a little too much though, and had to walk the entire stretch of Orchard to ease our tummies. Heh.

On Saturday night, B and I went out on a dinner date at Sakae Sushi. Sitting across him in the booth in Wheelock Place felt a little disconcerting. He's actually here in Singapore. The last time we had sushi together, it was from a takeaway box on his apartment couch.


We still haven't snapped a picture of us together since he arrived, but here's what we (mostly he!) consumed, minus his bowl of ramen. My French man really loves Japanese food, so good for me and my waistline. Haha.

The downpour foiled my plans to head over to No.5, so Erwin, Sze Wen, B and I headed over to Harry's at Esplanade. And after, we (minus Sze Wen) headed over to Shanghai Jazz Bar to join the other French students. Five drinking holes in three days. I can feel my liver shriveling up.

So in an attempt to balance out our late nights, Lanxi and I stuck to our Sunday beach runs despite our exhaustion.


The sunshine was out for the first time in ages, and nothing quite revitalizes like a good run and a lazy sprawl on our sarongs.

After our routine sushi lunch, I rushed home just in time to hop into Ken's car for CH's birthday dinner. Outback Steakhouse was nothing to rave about, and the real fun started at Paulaner Brauhaus.



The only normal pictures for the night.

I can't remember whatever possessed us to do something as cheesy as the 10-pose sequence, but fueled by liquid courage and our semi-hidden booth at the corner of the bar, we posed and posed. Here's CH and Tzin Ling.







Ken and I felt like we had to be a tad more innovative.







We were really getting into it, so we decided we'd do the slutty/sexy sequence next. But we could only come up with these couple. Slutty's not in our blood yet, but we're working on it. Haha. And no real groping happened that night. All for the cameras.





CH decided to join us. Here are some of the not-too-explicit ones.




And the good thing about beer is that it helps convince a boy to put a flower in his hair.


Happy 22nd Birthday CH!

Whew. What a weekend. With tests and assignments, I haven't been able to catch up on much sleep over the past couple of days, and I am really, really looking forward to a quiet night in with B tonight.

Off for a run.