17 hours after dinner and I am still fucking bloated...
Weizhong posted a picture of us still living as 10-year-olds. It was disgusting and yeah, Rae...we were a bunch of blur-fuck misfits. i refuse to scrutinise the picture to look for my face. However, I think I can see myself. Damn those big-ass, aviator-like glasses.
Ew.
Anyway, i am back with a vengeance. I had a kick-ass (but damn damn damn tiring) birthday and although am a bit broke, I am glad i spent the weekend with great friends.
A bit broke?
Actually I am very broke right now. I spent a BOMB (in my definition) on an IBM ThinkCentre CPU. Have to start saving for New York again.
Watch out for kick-ass pictures coming up real soon.
P/s: Thanks for EVERYTHING, guys. The cake in the office, the glorious flowers, the maddening KTV (Ally singing Nirvana's Smells Like Teen Spirit???), the pigged out birthday lunch session, the dining under the stars (and in the rain) sipping *gasp* cognac-ed coffee (urgh! i cant believe i broke my liquour virginity with something so disgusting and burning. very good. i will never try it again), the late night jazz performance at Timbre with Jeremy Monteiro, his drummer and the epileptic bassist, the ice-cream at lunch and the wicked buffet dinner.
(emailed)
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