How shall I have fun today?

That, for the past few weeks, was the only thought that entered my mind each morning. To enjoy myself, and to contribute to the foreign country's GDP, were my missions.

But the once-in-a-lifetime trip turned out to be more, much more than that.

According to Mooi, sharing a holiday is like having a microscopic view into the travel partner's character and personality. I cannot agree more.

I expected a hassle free holiday, short trips with different friends. The final leg of the journey- I wasn't so sure. My, was I surprised.

Did I harbour too high hopes because of our past encounters? I thought of how good we were together last year. Perhaps I overlooked some tell-tale signs? It was as if being in a different continent made you a different person. Halfway through I felt gratified that I did not travel as initially planned.

I suppose I was affected by it to a limited extent. Thankfully the remaining company and the awesome sights more than made up for the disappointment.

But Spain, ah, Spain was where the real fun started!

If my brain were spread out like a mind map, one would see clearly that Gaudi and "mini-ducks", and of course, Sweden, will always be directly associated with you. I knew you were easygoing (I'd like to think that I am quite too, and that I didn't pester you into visiting places that did not interest you), but we hit off with a solid note, didn't we?

While I basked in the warmth of friendship that Spain provided in abundance, Germany manifested the special bond between family members.

The genuine hospitality is an infinite times better than that found in any 6-star hotel. I felt so comfortable, and with gentle coaxing from the various beers you introduced to me, our conversation flowed like never before. I discovered what I've been missing, and that has only made me want to know you better. I'm glad I could spend some time with you, and I quietly believe that wherever the tides bring us, we will remain as we are: great cousins.

Now, time for my Oscar moment:

This trip would have been impossible without the support of Mum and Dad. Thank you for financing this incredibly expensive holiday of mine. And thank you Mum for having a sleepless night worrying for me when my luggage was "lost in transportation".

Thank you too, Fatty, for the countless e-mails. Words fail to explain how keeping in contact with you brightened my days.

Thank you to all the friendly and helpful people I've met throughout my trip. Every little bit succeeded in making the small yellow-skinned tourist a happy one.

And lastly, thank you to all my travel pals. I shed some old skin, took in a lot of exciting sights and knowledge, and discarded some excess baggage.

I had immense fun.

I'm at the Mac store at Oxford Street, London, on something magnificent called the MacBook Air.

Super sleek and sexy.

Pictures later!

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Now that the traumatizing moment has passed, I can concentrate on having fun. Suffice to say that the results were satisfactorily lousy. I'm surprised I managed to scrape through SS with a decent grade though.

I suppose after the rejection by Alberta the quality of my shock absorber has increased significantly.

Anyway, having delivered the unsavoury news, let me share with you the most beautiful place I've been to thus far- Bray.

A simple search on Wikitravel will probably form an image of a bygone coastal town in your head, but that's exactly the way I like it. Grace, Becca and I hiked up Bray Head, with the sushi nestling safely in Grace's backpack. The ascend was tiring; my legs started screaming when we were only halfway through. The view at the peak, however, was most rewarding.

Grace and I looking like siamese twins on the stony cliff.

The sky and sea diffuse into each other. It took my breath away.

One of Becca's rare appearances.

Grace should be awake anytime soon, then we'll be walking to Becca's place for tandoori chicken. Till later!

The latest story about how Singapore's favourite fugitive, Mas Selamat, escaped has been released.

Some "private time" in the toilet cubicle with an ungrilled window? CCTV cameras not yet in commission? And I heard, 7 rolls of toilet paper to cushion his fall? Most people don't have their prayers answered even on their deathbeds. Clearly someone had been praying very hard.

To me, it's a gross error that's almost, well, laughable. Had Mas Selamat been kept locked in any hostel in Singapore, he would have faced a tougher challenge en route to freedom. Take for example the NUS High School Residence, floor 11. Perhaps he could have jumped off the ledge if he sprouted wings. The fire escape method is suicidal. Good luck trying to rig the numerous CCTVs around the main hostel building. ( Though he could have observed the times when the security guard takes his 20 winks or advises an unknowing hostel kid to take the MRT rather than the bus to Orchard.)

Mr Wong, the hostel manager, certainly had all grounds covered and with this I wholeheartedly recommend him as a counter-terrorist expert.

Plus, NUSHSR is located just next to a Catholic church. We really should have more faith in our man- Mas Selamat.

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I miss home and I can't wait for the holidays. Please come soon.

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This is my 100th post. So much for blogging being a fling (Joleen, 2006). =)

This life:

Defying Murphy's Law.

Once in a while, I come across some unreasonable people who deserve a tight kick in the ass.

Remember SDMm?

As fate would have it, there was a minor skirmish at the Arts canteen today.

It was lunchtime, and as usual the canteen was packed with 70% students, 30% bags and other personal belongings. Fatty and I laboured to get a table, and I left my trademark orange bag on one of the stools. I had cravings for unagi, so I queued at the Japanese foodstall, not ten steps away from our table. Further away was Fatty at the yong tau foo stall.

Just as I was contemplating about my order, I saw three angmohs advancing towards our table. Imagine my horror as they disregarded my behemoth of a bag and plonked their food on MY table. I abandoned the queue and walked up to them, and brought to their attention, in a respectful manner, that the table was mine.

By then, one of the male angmohs had left, perhaps to buy a drink. So the remaining male said, "You may sit here", pointing towards the seat occupied by my bag.

I wasn't prepared to sit on Fatty's lap while having my lunch, so of course I protested, and was promptly countered by the angmoh's jab towards the plastic sign on the table that says "Please do not leave your belongings bla...".

I responded, somewhat feebly, "But that's what everyone does", because it is the norm in NUS. People usually respect and accept that a bag left on a chair means that the table is taken. None of the angmoh predators were carrying any bags, so naturally they couldn't obtain a table that way.

The angmoh just shrugged and proceeded to plonk his butt one of the stools. His female counterpart followed suit.

!!!

An angry, tumultous tsunami swelled inside me. I knew I hadn't a strong case, the "rules" were simply not on my side. Nevertheless, I wasn't going to allow them to occupy my table, thus I moved the third angmoh's tray to the middle, and sat on the last empty stool, so when that third angmoh returned he had to sit elsewhere.

Sorry to spoil the fun, folks. But no one messes with me, especially when I think I am right.

It is possible for one to get tired of too much pink after all. Say bye bye to my salmon pink background, bye bye to the "bimbo" period, and hello to subtle hues of teal, brown and yellow.

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The past few weekends have been filled with little trips.

The national museum along with tortoise and mash. It was our first "official" outing, and to be honest, the Greek sculptures started to get boring after a while. I mean, there is a limit to the amount of nudity in granite one can tolerate. (I'm not discounting tortoise though, ;) ) Nevertheless, the spur of the moment trip, IMHO, has sparked something among us.

What I'd like to say is, The three of us are so good together.

I digress. The painstakingly elaborate Singapore history section was such a surprise! The set up was almost perfect, and interesting, a trait not common among museums. I kept thinking of how Malaysia's needs a total revamp; this is certainly one of many good practices we can learn from Singapore.

To the zoo for, if I'm not wrong, the 5th time. Fatty wasn't feeling well, so it was sort of a grey cloud in the otherwise cool and obedient weather.

Met up with Zhi Ying, Michele and Mirna, and went to Sentosa with them. The company was great. I thought I'd need some time to re-acclimatise, but I felt so at ease.

Mirna commented, in passing, that I'm not a very open person. I concur wholeheartedly. Perhaps it will be one of my pet projects soon.

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Sometimes hearing it from a third person can be more effective; realization finally made a home run. I will work with you.