Eusoff had some reunion thing tonight but I did not attend. The hall years were the best years of my life and every single little crook and cranny is imprinted in my brain. Four years, four different rooms and the best friends forever.

I never had Dunks before. My only other high cuts are Reeboks. I cannot wait to wear them and they were a steal! 40 smackeroos thanks to discounts and vouchers (technically vouchers are money spent but I was having another usual bad day so allow me to be deluded).

A fashion intern’s responsibility is the clothes that you borrow from shops. You have to make sure nothing (absolutely nothing) happens to the clothes. Not a single tiny anything. Now when I look at clothes, I feel absolutely sick to the stomach. In fact, I have to handle the clothes with so much care that I take it out on my own clothes and treat my clothes horribly. Because I have to take it out somewhere. Heh. Well, it really does not matter if these clothes are treated with the utmost royal reverence when no one else does. It is difficult but when makeup gets on the clothes, something gets snagged, stained, smelly, it is my responsibility no matter what.

Whenever I see the piles of clothes lying there, I feel the bile coming up my throat. I have to keep on checking the pricetag to see whether I can afford to pay for it.

of the intern Awful.

I have read and watched enough about interns to be prepared for my internship. Or so I thought. I know it ain’t all like The Hills (where Whitney and L.C. just do nothing but chat at their iMacs and make faces). The Teen Vogue interns blog about their internships and flats are an essential on their work outfit lists. Which makes sense. But pray not to be like The Devil Wears Prada which I watched the movie but did not read the book.

Loaning and returning clothes. Walking up and down town with heavy heavy bags. That is how clothes in the shops make their ways onto the pages of magazines. As much as samples do get sent to the editor to be featured in the magazine, most of the time, I have to make my rounds to see what the tiny shops at Far East and Haji Lane have to offer for a shoe string. Style is subjective and sometimes what I bring back may not be what the boss is looking for. That is where the bags of clothes come in. You have to look through every single rack to make sure you do not miss anything. That is what I have trouble with because when I do my own shopping, whatever jumps out at me from the hanging clothes is what I pick out. But when you are desperate and there are no _______ (insert trend here) pieces that you have found and it is close to five o’clock, I have to start digging.

But of course you suddenly find all these totally you clothes that are just there ripe for the picking and your savings seem to not be able to tide you through ‘unemployment’ as long as you thought it would.

And good paper smells good!

to have a children’s bookstore. Just like this one at Club Street. I was at Ann Siang today for work and had abit of time. I walked to Books Actually that used to be near Amoy where I got my Moleskine London Guide. It has three stories now and I had to exercise all willpower not to buy anything. I went into Little Drom Store and looked at the cakes at K Ki. I wished very much to be a tai tai to spend afternoons roaming in bookstores and little quaint stores (and having the money to buy things even though I do not work). But the pang I felt in Books Actually did not prepare me for the longing I would feel when I walked into Books in the Woods. All the Dr Seuss, Richard Scarry’s, Madelines just sat there. Just like a dream. There were Chinese kids books and even Japanese (I think, I could not look too close in case I could not leave). A book called ‘Wo Tao Yen Mama’ ‘I hate Mama’ made me laugh.

I would give my kidney to have a shop like that. I would even give my heart or my liver but that kind of defeats the purpose. I would even be nice to children if they visited because their parents would buy the books and children who read are alright in my book. I would have a helium tank and have fresh balloons all the time. For children who were funny, I would give them candy if they did not scream. (Point aside: I made a baby cry in Far East on Monday. It was ridiculous but hilarious. I did not do anything though.)

As dreams go, the one I am currently chasing seems to be leading in a dead end. Yesterday I was at the most magical little store. The owner had a bowl haircut too and she loved the Beatles too. But as I attempted to make conversation, it was not very forthcoming and I felt a tiny shy and stupid. Have you ever met someone whom you wanted to make friends with so much but they did not seem to want to give you the time of the day?

It happened today again. I was just trying to fill the silence in the air with a PR girl. I wanted to say that ‘For god’s sake, you are in PR!’. Maybe I have not been long in this and maybe she was tired and not feeling it.

It is true, I am not cut out for publishing. My style of writing is not what they require for magazines and I wear my feelings on my sleeve. I smile when I do not feel like but I do not like to show a face to people especially when they do not deserve it. Am polite even when the situation may not call for it. I know where I stand but … Maybe I was wrong. I guess twenty seven is really too old to start over again.

Looking at this picture, makes me want to learn how to put on makeup, specifically smoky eyes and grow my hair out to braid it to one side.

Jupes left for New York last night. The lucky girl had an entire village to send her off and her JC friends wearing specially printed T-shirts with her Missus Bon Bon website screen all matching and standing in one line, it was like one of the parties that she loves to throw.

We had dinner on Saturday night and dancing at Butter afterwards. Auntie Fang and Leng had a birthday party to go to after dinner but not before the Auntie dropped a bomb of her own. Our darling Auntie will finally be an Auntie. She has a bun in her oven. The rest have christened it ‘Boo-ster’ and I have christened it Tweedledum Boo (the original name for her guinea pigs). As I attempted to arrange my face into some semblance of congratulations, I got chided by Missy Teo. But I guess I am happy because as long as the Auntie is happy, I will be happy. Plus she can finally Baby Talk a proper baby instead of like baby talking the rest of the world who are above one meter. So Congratulations Mr and Mrs and Future Small Boo.

So it seems that pregnancy or rather pregnant people are everywhere. The yoga class that I attended on the Sunday after, the yoga teacher was sporting a small bump of her own. Apparently, pregnancy is contagious.

Awful has the iPhone 3GS. I am such a Apple slut.

I have the MacBook, Magic Mouse, iPod Classic and shuffle. I had the Apple Mini and the Nano. Now I have the iPhone.

I am not that techie. I do not know how to use internet on a mobile phone. My phone plan has always been the cheapo, cheapest monthly subscription. Before this internship, I had never exceeded the 500 sms limit.

But hello iPhone!

At this moment in time, there cannot be a more perfect dress than Jason Wu’s sequined cocktail dress. Zoe Saldana wears his creation here.