FARK THOSE SHOES! Fark those shoes that I so love!
Why is it that the most glamorous things in the world are sometimes also the most insensibly useless ones? Why is it that I have got pretty heels but cannot show them off to the world?
Why is it I cannot handle even 4 inches?
This so calls for some training. =/
*****
Let me recount the past week. Oh, the past week.
December is already midway through its run, and I'm lamenting it's flying by and wishing December never ends. I love December, for the coolness in the air (I walk around in just a tank top at times), for the layering of clothes (and I'd like to clarify I am not a boot-wearing polar bear), for the holiday mood (read: laziness) at work, for the Fun Fridays and Congee Tuesdays (can't remember when I last had hot pot).
I love December, because every day is a party in December. That, at least, is my very-new-though-very-late resolution for the year.
And I am darn sure taking my resolution seriously for once.
TUESDAY
Drank.
Didn't really have to. Shouldn't really have.
But running my guts out and staying home on Monday night was good enough to make me feel like a good girl.
So I did. And I did also discover a lovely new place, Le Jardin.
My Japanese friend is finally out again these days. We're back chatting about shit.
WEDNESDAY
Drank.
Christmas cookie frosting! Pizza! Wine!
Never in my entire life thus far have I ever baked nor much less, frosted Christmas cookies. Am not a big cookie monster to begin with.
But it's the fun, and the company, and the wine that really count.
My small-town Vermont babe is awesome.
I made the ugliest United-Colors-of-Benetton Santa - that, of course, I had to eat up.
THURSDAY
Drank.
Farewell drinks for a not-so-close colleague, and I swear I will never step foot into Sevva again - if I can help it.
I have never hung with all the girls from the work place. And only the girls. Weird.
Dinner at Wagyu was decent, though. Been dying to try the cows there, but none of the girls ordered a steak, and I would feel like a cow if I did.
The phone call came in the middle of my salad and carpaccio feast. And I can't wait to sneak off.
Back to Le Jardin. Nice.
My Japanese friend is out again. Hmm.
FRIDAY
Drank.
From 5.30 in the afternoon. On the pretext of "office party". A PYOB one, at that - thanks to the recent budget cuts.
5 out of 11 beers from the list. Blue shots and pink ones too. And another one that looked really like good ol' plain water.
Giggled and stumbled out to Fatburger with the boys.
Ah, I miss these crazy nights.
And obviously way more than the boys, because I didn't go home at half-past-nine while they did.
What's a week without spending time with my Gorgeous?
It's training week, too. : )
Never mind even if I have to stumble home at 3. Or, was it 4?
SATURDAY
Drank. Drank. Ate. Laughed. Drank. Danced. Sang. Laughed. Talked. Drank.
It's our glamorous Christmas dinner. (Yes, the fucking' glam dinner for which I bought the fuckin' glam shoes, which didn't even bring me a fuckin' hundred meters away from home.)
We promised we'd all come out in our glamorous best, for once - and not have dinner at hot pot.
French was equally tantalizing.
I got a can of abalone in the gift exchange. Which invited much jibing. But I think it's cool I've something to bring home for Mom.
Laughter. Company. Memories. That's Christmas for me.
All the way till 7 in the morning.
SUNDAY
Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
"Oh office buddies again huh..."
And I can see the sneer at the other end.
Yeah, I happen to love these guys. And I still love you boys lah.
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