Saturday, October 02, 2004 @9:22 PM
The Importance of Being Idle.
The week has been put to great use- honing what Wilde calls the "great aristocratic art of doing absolutely nothing" (haha this name-dropping thing makes you feel so intelligent I understand why Jo does it all the time now). Sloman and various lit-texts have been banished from their hitherto-sacrosanct positions of prominence on my table into oblivion, supplanted by Elle and (!) the Economist (which ES informs me I am way behind on reading anyway).
Pet's for photos of our post-S/Lit dallying at Sentosa and miscellaneous phoneshots of ZH's munificence manifested in a ten-dollar jug of Heineken.
For the record: We beat Wu Zhuang Hui four times in a row at
cai quan- and I just learned it:)
Even if sharing ES' tastes is a compliment, it can't be but vaguely unsettling that Sheryl is the only person other than me who thinks
Dodgeball is funny.
Math is annoying.
Can you be addicted to therapy? Because Sheryl is addicted to retail therapy:)
I am burnt brown-and-red (mostly red, but that'll go away, I think) after a(nother) successful baking-under-the-sun session at Sentosa courtesy of PY Clar Pam and lovely "whose wonderful idea was this" Lydia.
Pet eat your heart out!
In my supreme idle state, I've discovered that there is no such
person as Marlboro-the-cigarette-maker. Christopher Marlowe, on the other hand, did exist, and Estelle probably has full editions of his published works to prove it.