Saturday, Sunday, everyday

Just a picture of the cake we made on Friday night/Saturday morning. I wonder what made me stay so awake that night, only to collapse at 11.30pm last night. I swear that was the earliest time I had slept since the last holiday. And waking up at noon today just proved my point.

The spur-of-the-moment itch to eat Japanese food claimed my entire Sunday morning. Obasan-me throngs around the market every Sunday morning and gets assaulted by the other authentic obasans left, right, centre. I've never seen middle-aged men and women move so fluidly in the crowd, no less, at the expense of pushabouts (like me). So after getting stabbed by prawns and fish tails on the ankles, conned by a stallholder, drove like a decapitated cockroach to IMM for last-minute obasan-ing, I'm quite satisfied with the end product.

Then it was out with Jack and his extended side for steamboat at Golden Mile. Jack has something that place, and I can see why. Period.


And since we ended dinner early (plus the extremely amusing yet eye-covering antic by Jack just outside Golden Mile - I shall not delve into it), we thought that we could hang around Dhoby Ghaut long enough to join the Geyao pack for their post-dinner activities. That plan fell apart when my eyelids started to droop. 7 hours of sleep for 2 days isn't very satisfying. Most embarrassing was being woken up by the bus driver at Clementi Interchange.

That very rainy day.

You and I, and Ice Monster.

Chatting, laughing, still friends.

Not certain, just oblivious.

And then,

You and I, and Ice Monster.

Chatting, laughing, much more than that.