Hello, I blog!
I share all my sporadic and toilet thoughts in here, because I am random like that.
Singapore Bloggers’ Meet-up
This is possibly my second gathering with my fellow Singaporean bloggers – Dayna, Cherlynn and Ivy. (Actually, I’ve met Dayna and Ivy last year at a phone launch but that wasn’t a “gathering” gathering, so it ain’t counted, eh? (;)
Terry was supposed to come too, but fell sick at the eleventh hour. Apparently, Ivy claimed he sounded like an old man when he phoned her. Get well soon Terry, and we wish you were here!
The day started off with Ivy arriving at Relax Bistro (located at level 2, 313 Somerset) at 1.10 p.m. to find none of us around … even though we were all supposed to meet at 1 p.m. Oops. We eventually had a full crowd only at 2ish.
The food there was awesome. Pretty reasonably priced too. They also have some mad awesome drinks and desserts. (Think drinkable tiramisu and dark chocolate. Mmmm.)
Bewildered Dayna flanked by Ivy’s mushroom soup (left) and my dark chocolate drink.
It so happened that I discovered the happening of a flea market in the near vicinity earlier in the day, and everyone was in agreement about spending the afternoon there. Gee, I hadn’t done any proper shopping in weeks and a flea market is the best way to begin if you don’t want to burn a hole in your pocket, aye?
The selection of stalls at the flea market was decent, but the crowd management was pretty bad. Tables and chairs were scattered everywhere and it was hard to make out a distinct ‘path’ through the stalls. Cherlynn and I were separated from Dayna and Ivy at one point, and we had a hard time re-locating one another. Calls were missed due to the booming music (hoo, boy!) and it was hard to make one another out in the huge sea of faces. (People were starting to look like one another – that’s how badly the crowd boggled the mind.)
Cherlynn, Dayna and Ivy and I, post-flea market.
The above picture was taken at a slightly quieter section of the flea market which we spent the most time at. Of course, shopping loot was aplenty … but you can’t see them in the picture. That’s what carrying big bags are for. (;
I should be a guy!
Me, talking about the importance of self-dependence during travel rather than following a packaged tour (which plans everything for you wthout you having to lift a finger).
“Somehow, travelling free-and-easy will help you learn more about a place, and learn to find your way around. Sooner, you’d realize that you can go almost anyplace without having to rely on guide books.
Back then when I travelled to Hong Kong on a group-tour, they brought us round and round until I got dizzy and didn’t know where the heck I was! Whereas when I went back to Hong Kong later on with my friends, I managed to get myself up and around in a matter of two days!” – Me.
Well, that was supposedly the original topic of conversation. But you know. With me, things can suddenly take on a twist.
Ter – “You have an amazing sense of direction for a girl. I thought that was a guy thing.”
Me – “See, I told you. I’m a guy trapped in a girl’s body.”
Ter – “…”
Me – “When I became an embryo in my mother’s womb, the stupid Y-chromosome decided to mutate and become an X.”
Ter – “…”
Me – “I have mutated sex chromosomes!”
Ter – “…”
Yeah, I am still onto that whole I should have been born a guy conspiracy thing.
Dreams that made me go W-T-F.
My imagination seems to be going on constant overdrive mid-sleep the past few nights, and end up waking the next morning feeling as if I’ve been teleported to some wacky land overnight.
Rewind two nights ago.
Grace and I were holidaying in Hong Kong. (Well, this vacation did happen, but it was way back in January last year.) We were at Tung Chung, and we wanted to head to Ngong Ping. The only way to get there was through an undersea bridge/walkway because Ngong Ping was several hundred feet below sea level.
Now, this totally does not make sense. Because in reality, Ngong Ping is a highland area and the way to get there is via a cable car.
Now, you see why I’m so bewildered.
It doesn’t stop there. Grace and I proceeded to Ngong Ping via the undersea walkway when a glass window suddenly flew open (now, undersea walkways don’t have windows that can open, do they?) and the entire walkway began filling up with water very quickly.
So, we quickly detoured and ran up flight after flight of stairs struggling to head back to the ground level of Tung Chung. We emerged drenched from bottom down, but okay.
Then I woke up, thinking “W-T-F?”
Rewind to last night.
I was given this tiny device. Think a toy aeroplane which you can sit on. (Not in. On. Apparently, you sit on top of it with your legs dangling over the wings.) There is also this black lever which controls the direction the plane flies.
So, I sat on it, pressed some button and off I went. I flew around buildings, I chased birds, and basically made everyone on ground level look up at me in admiration. (It was low-altitude flying, by the way. Like, maximum 100 metres above street level?)
Then, I heard a whistle blow. I looked down and saw this policeman chasing after me on the road and catching up. (Look now, since when can a policeman on foot out-run a plane?!)
Eventually, I was shouted at for flying without a pilot’s license.
Then, I was awoken by my ringing alarm clock. And when I smacked it shut and yelled “WHAT THE HECK?” – the exasperation wasn’t actually directed at the alarm clock for the first time.
Honestly, can I have normal dreams tonight, pleeeease?
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