parched
My bottom lip has been cracking for the past one week, despite me applying at least 1 gram of lip balm on it per day.
Today it’s parched like desert, cracked like baked earth and a dried-up water bed. Let me find you a picture.
And whilst I’m on the theme of dried-up river beds and forgotten slabs of earth. . .
Which reminds me I still have not categorized and uploaded my Silk Road travel pictures in its entirety which is quite a waste really because there are some really spectacular sights.
Can’t smile too, hence can’t do a shoot. . . looks like next collection will only be up next week. My brother’s quite excited to use some special cool new film to take some special coolio joolio pictures for us.
pictures
Sifting through old photographs is priceless. I’m glad I belong to a generation that managed to at least get acquainted with film before everything got digital. Secondary school, cheerleading, first trip to the US, prom, swimming meet, first trip to Bangkok, pageant, first trip to Tioman, first secret trip to London without parents’ knowledge. Then, nada. That’s when everything got digital.
all or nothing
I must be the worst person to ever get into a relationship with. I am so immensely flawed, I don’t even know where to begin. Whether a summer fling or a stable relationship, I manage to ruin them all. It’s a case of wanting everything, the grass on this side, on that side, and on the fantastical side that resides only in my imagination; and ending up with nothing in the end. Story of my life and the unfortunate participants in it. God I really suck.
la dolce vita
Clinical insanity.
I’m going to plan a trip to Europe instead, starting with the Trevi Fountain and ending on Via Montenapoleone. Had a few rounds of drinks with some really fun fellas this evening. A great way to end the day; especially as my Bloomberg Helpdesker for this afternoon’s session turned out to be a really sexy-sounding Frenchmen. 28-day interbank yields never sounded so smooth, like truffles.
O! Toro!
I met Cheryl dear for dinner at Akashi today. I have absolutely no comments on the food, decor, ambience and pricing. Prostitutes from Orchard Towers have now trickled into the Wheelock-Hilton space. I have no comments about that either. O! Toro!
about that post
My readership more than quadrupled in one day while “amandina heartlands” became the most searched phrase leading to my blog. All thanks should go to my by-now infamous post and, of course, the very lively world of. . . people on the internet.
I have spoken to many friends, and I realize now that my comments were highly inappropriate and insensitive and I sincerely apologize for that. I did not at any point in time intend to criticize, ridicule or even look down on people living in the heartlands.
In all honesty, the point of my post was just to describe, albeit too graphically, the angsty weekend I had. My point of contention was the chore of queuing, not the people that live above and certainly not their homes. To put things into context, I would have written something similar even if I was at Orchard Road. Walked around. Saw hideous window displays at Guess.
I have never considered myself a member of the ‘upper class’ and hardly think of myself as superior to anybody.
And as for the incident of one irate reader linking my personal opinion to The Scarlette, I feel that is unjustified and uncalled for. Me as an individual and The Scarlette as a company set up by a group of people are not one and the same. I am entitled to my opinions (which you may rightfully hate me for) but these do not reflect The Scarlette’s collective position.
Once again, I apologize for my careless words, and the outrage it has created.
MJ
Listening to Michael Jackson songs in the car is unbelievably addictive; you never know when the next hiccup or whoop is coming. I even have problems predicting if it’s going to be a hiccup or whoop.
a superb night sets the stage
The atmosphere buzzed suitably with Friday night relaxedness. Waiters buzzed around like penguins on ice. delivering surprisingly good service, just the way I like it. Even my always good dinner companion rocked more than usual. And the pesto charmed us to death.
Superb night.
I shall go and queue up at the dermatologist with my brother now. And do some major housekeeping later on.
Happy weekend all!
type, drink, wait – FRIDAY!
I just finished typing like a freaking essay for Straits Times. *fingers are tired*
I will adjourn to dinner soon and drink vino by meself while waiting for Queen Cheryl to honor me with her presence.
