anotherlongshot (anotherlongshot) wrote,

Clubbing at Refuge was mostly fun, though I did find myself in a taxi at 2.40am. I was honestly quite sleepy by then, and Hadyu didn't feel like going back into the club (we were outside 'cause he wanted to smoke) and so I left him with a cool friend of his that came along.

The crowd was also very local. It's not necessarily a bad thing, but definitely bad if one intended to get picked up; I don't remember ever getting hit on by a Singaporean guy in a club here. But that was not my intention so I didn't care, and I had fun anyway.


Christmas dinner at my aunt's was surprisingly nice. I entertained my niece who likes to talk to people and I talked to her about her new stuffed toy. We had cake. My trying to go sugar-free is impossible in this country, a fact made more stark by the two scoops of Haagen-Das ice-cream that Mag peer-pressured me into having after dinner tonight. I guess I can go sugar-free all I want in Cambridge when I do NOT have the option of hanging out with my long-term best friend!

Dinner was at Original Sin. It was really tasty and really worth it because Mag had a 1-for-1 deal. She was pleasantly surprised that vegetarian food can be yummy. Haha! It was a nice night. Alas, I saw my bus leaving me in its dust when I got to the bus stop, and it eventually took me 50 minutes to get home - quite ridiculous considering my house is like, a 15-minute drive away. I was really annoyed because I wanted to finally submit the NUS scholarship tonight and I also want some time to watch an episode of The Crown, but it's now 12.36am and I have to get up early for 8.30am tennis, so there's gonna be no Netflixing for me today.

I also wanted to finish the paper as I really didn't feel like going to the library tomorrow, but alas! I failed in that quest. So library it is again for me. Fuck my life.


The last thing that I want to say is that Bruno asked me what time I will arrive in Heathrow on 16 January 2017. The reason he asked was not because he was making small talk, but because he wanted to drive all the way to Heathrow from Cambridge to pick me up from the airport.

Then he asked how big my suitcase is. This is a very pertinent and crucial information...because he drives a convertible.

Granted, it is a BMW, but I can live with a BMW convertible. (I am not the biggest BMW fan.)

OH MY GOD! Seriously, it's as if this guy can read my mind or something. How is it possible that he barely knows me and yet he seems to know all the right moves to make? First he gets me a gift from Korea even though he absolutely didn't have to, then he says goodbye at the bus stop before I got on bus for Heathrow, then he stays in touch constantly through this whole period of me being in Singapore; and now he indicates that he has the intention to treat me like a queen by driving to fucking Heathrow from Cambridge and back to Cambridge again to pick me up - and not only that, driving his convertible.

It's as if he knows that I find convertibles extremely sexy. It's also as if he knows that this is the kind of treatment that I really like but which I would generally not voice or even expect because I don't want to be an inconvenience. And because I don't want to be an inconvenience, I told him that it's okay and that I already have a return bus ticket. He told me to send him the dimensions of my suitcase anyway.

I am really excited about his car. My tennis friend drives an Audi convertible and he gave me a ride home last week when we played. He drove with the top down and it was AMAZING!!! One of my materialist dreams is to own a convertible (a Mercedes) and speed down an empty highway with the roof down, wind in my hair, against my face, an instant sense of freedom. I wonder when I'm going to be able to afford one? The chances of me being able to afford one are, of course, higher if I don't live in Singapore.

Anyway, I know it's so shallow of me, but I am really liking this convertible business. I like even more that he thought of coming to the airport to pick me up.
Tags: clubbing, family, friends, guys, mag

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