The only thing that offers me recourse in the midst of the dullness of work appears to be the packages I receive in the mail. Latest packages : a special set of 21 Helena Kvarnstrom prints and 6 dvds. American Beauty, American Splendour (with Paul Giamatti, who was snubbed as an Oscar nom, poor lad), Lost in Translation, Ferris Bueller's Day Off, Dirty Dancing and Donnie Brasco. I wouldn't say it was the perfect mix of movies, but it has the new and old and most importantly, it has Johnny Depp in it.
The other pleasant respite I was able to enjoy was a night out in Holland Village with Clara, my long time friend and former primary school enemy (hahahaha), eating my la mian and xiao long bao at the new Crystal Jade, trotting around scouring for ice cream, drinking slurpees on stone benches, counting time wrongly and listening to the Unexpected play at Wala Wala, our bodies slowly imbibing the smell of cigarettes and alcohol (read : blech).
We talked about getting old and the fear of getting old. We talked about reasserting our youth in our last few years as teenagers by adding a touch of whimsy to the otherwise drab and utilitarian work outfits. It was lovely, just sitting staining our lips blue and cola-coloured with slurpees, giggling like we were 13 again and still the Madhatter's club.
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