After a change of job, it still takes me about an hour to travel to work.
15 mins to bus stop, 5 mins to wait for the bus. 30 mins on the topsy-turvy curvy-wurvy busride. 10 mins to walk to the office.
It really makes no difference whether I’m travelling to this side of the Kampong or the other side. I still take about an hour to travel anywhere.
And I’m not the sort who sleeps on the bus anyway.
I feel like someone just filled my head with a pot of hot boiling soup, then proceed to stamp my temple lobe with a supersized vernier caliper.
Sometimes I would like to applaud myself for having the good sense to resist 2 for 1 offer, and pay a little more for a quality product.
I think I just found the perfect spaghetti strap for layering at Marks & Spencer!
Such smooth and cooling hand feel, good stretchability, no logo-a-gogo stamped on the front/back of the top! Definitely do not foresee the material pilling or stretching out of shape within 2 months.
Do you see CLOCKWISE or ANTI-CLOCKWISE?
I’ve been staring at this picture for 3 days and cannot see the Anti-clockwise at all. My friend keep telling me to stare at the butt, but I don’t see anything! ARGHTHRHGGHGH.
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Complimentary Bimbo Post OfTheWeek
Met the girls last night for beer/pigging out session at Brewerkz.
We had Mussels, folded pizza, buffalo wings, baked potato (no good), salad, Chilli and cheese fries, saunteed mushroom, chocolate brownies and chocolate fudge cake. Of course we also had the obligatory wheat beer and cherry ale which tasted disturbing like fizzy soap water.
The mussels was fantastic with this rich and creamy sauce. My friend kept dipping everything she stucked on her fork into the mussel sauce. The dish was finished within 10 mins.
The Buffalo wings were awesome too, wished we order 2 servings instead of that lousy bowl of salad that no one finished.
The service was rather spotty that evening, both waitresses that we had didn’t know the price of certain drinks, they had to go back and forth to check. Even so, they came back with no definite answer. (”One jug has 4 shots, one shot is 45ml. So how much for a jug? “….”)
Sorry no pictures though.
Everyone says my hair is super long, “zhang de hen kuai leh”…. Honestly what’s the point of having really long hair, when there’s a huge bald spot on my head?!
Today the colleagues bought fruits together. By the box. Almost every one, including me, went home with a pair of dragonfruits the size of my boobs (damn huge) and half a kilo of dark skin grapes.
Then later, I gave one of my boobs dragonfruit to my friend, cos she’s so sweet for lending me her stuff for my fashion show (this sat at Vivocity, topshop/topman show, 3pm).
Work is challenging, and I have to go dig out my notes later to “decode” the technical terms that keep appearing in the various textile reports.
There’s so much reading to do, but I space out when a sheet of paper has more than 500 words printed on it, and then I start day dreaming about sex.
Once the clock strikes 6, every notion in my head evaporates, and I just wanna go home immediately.
I feel like I die a little bit everyday, just like my ipod battery.
Lately every SMS I receive is a Sorry this or a Sorry that… or a “Sorry to disturb but…”
Sometimes I really wish I could satiate loneliness as easily as hunger.
I want a pair of sneakers.
No need the adidas flowers, no need nike swoosh. Just a nice pair of low cut ballet pump-esque like sneakers. I’ve got enough black shoes, so maybe a pair in White, or Silver. Might consider Navy blue, but worry I might look too matchy matchy with my other navy bags.
I’m walking so much to work, I might as well wear a comfortable pair.
edit: ok, I want an onitsuka tiger pair.
edit edit: The sis has got a puma pair in grey/cream suede, they look rather good!
edit edit edit: then again, birkenstock looks good too!
I’ve been putting off the pattern drafting of my top, simply cos I’m really really bad at sleeve drafting.
I know I know, I ought to be shot…
In other news, I’m really excited about my new job!
Last evening, I met up a Dutch lady for coffee at Wheelock. She’s probably the first Alopecian I ever spoke to in Singapore. And for the first time, I felt I’m talking to someone who truly understands the awkwardness of being different from the crowd.
As a local, I hate to agree that Singaporeans are a bunch of rude people, who gawk and stare (and even pinch), and then choose to ignore you if you approach them.
If you only know why sometimes I feel like slamming my handbag into some people’s face.
