pre birthday

i felt quite annoyed when he called me few times to ask when i would reach home..
but when i reached home, i saw this.. 
it was my pre birthday celebration..
candles . love birthday card . mannequin jewellery stand . poinsettia .
chablis . ferrero rocher -my favourite chocolate

and piaf concert tickets that i was hesitating to get.

It wasn’t snow

i was in deep sleep when alex woke me up early in the morning to see the view out there.

no, it didn’t snow…. 
it was hoarfrost (frozen dew that forms a white coating on a surface).
strangely, i was actually dreaming of snow right before the moment i was awake.

Silly ewe, smart me

“Oh… i am so smart,” I said excitedly the moment after I managed to retrieve the lost link in my blog I have been looking for in the past few weeks.
But, how would you interpret that sentence? ‘Smart’ for my determination to spend the time figuring out the html code and finally managing to fix it, or ‘smart’ for not realising that the link was actually invisible and already there.

Randomly random

It was a boring but relaxing Saturday. We went for a

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short walk at the shopping complex in front of our flat.

Other randoms…
our new toy
promotion ended two days ago,
somehow still managed to get it at 50% of the price yesterday
yesterday’s colourful fried rice . alex

ingredients for tomorrow’s ABC soup . me

To go or not to go?

In September, I posted my first youtube video in my blog and it was a French song by Edith Piaf.
A month later, I saw a poster in the tube station advertising Piaf’s concert. I was really excited that I decided to go for the concert. 
However, after reconsidering I changed my mind not to go, to save more money. The decision did not last until I realised that it was actually a play that features her astonishing life story, through her childhood in a brothel, her blindness and miraculous healing at the age of seven, becoming France’s biggest every star, drink, drugs and multiple affairs and husbands. 
I began to hesitate if I should fork out money after spending alot for the new home last month. It’s either I go for it or miss it; it is only available until 24th January.
I wanted to write a brief introduction about this French lady, but was lazy to read through her biography from the websites, summarise and rewrite. And why write when there is Google.
So, here’s a short note on Edith Piaf (bla bla bla….)
Edith Piaf is almost universally regarded as France’s greatest popular singer. Still revered as an icon decades after her death, “the Sparrow” served as a touchstone for virtually every chansonnier, male or female, who followed her. Her greatest strength wasn’t so much her technique, or the purity of her voice, but the raw, passionate power of her singing. (Given her extraordinarily petite size, audiences marveled all the more at the force of her vocals.) Her style epitomized that of the classic French chanson: highly emotional, even melodramatic, with a wide, rapid vibrato that wrung every last drop of sentiment from a lyric. She preferred melancholy, mournful material, singing about heartache, tragedy, poverty, and the harsh reality of life on the streets; much of it was based to some degree on her real-life experiences, written specifically for her by an ever-shifting cast of songwriters. Her life was the stuff of legend, starting with her dramatic rise from uneducated Paris street urchin to star of international renown. Along the way, she lost her only child at age three, fell victim to substance abuse problems, survived three car accidents, and took a seemingly endless parade of lovers, one of whom perished in a plane crash on his way to visit her. Early in her career, she chose men who could help and instruct her; later in life, with her own status secure, she helped many of her lovers in their ambitions to become songwriters or singers, then dropped them once her mentorship had served its purpose. By the time cancer claimed her life at age 47, Piaf had recorded a lengthy string of genre-defining classics — “Mon Légionnaire,” “La Vie en Rose,” “L’Hymne à l’Amour,” “Milord,” and “Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien” among them — that many of her fans felt captured the essence of the French soul.
One of her songs that was often heard (in Ferror Rocher ad)….
La Vie En Rose

One is not enough….
Hymne A L’amour
p.s. quick! i need to decide asap. not only my money is running out, but also the tickets.

p.p.s.  i just booked our tickets to prague in end of january. (i can imagine what my mum is going to say next morning)

A series of coincidences

Last weekend after a christmas shopping

spree we went to Chee How’s flat for a home-cooked dinner. His flat was tidy and neat, but a little drafty. After the dinner, which extended late into the night (true to our tradition of being slow) we didn’t leave immediately but stayed to chat. The guys enjoyed some beers but I preferred to enjoy the heat from the heater. Time passed so quickly that it was a quarter past midnight before we realised the time and left in quite a hurry to catch the last train home, which was leaving in 25 minutes.

Apparently a little luck was with us, as we barely managed to catch the last Tube train heading towards King’s Cross, where our train home departs from. During the journey, reality set in – there was no way we could make it, especially after considering the warren of underground tunnels and corridors that made up the London Tube network. It got worse when the operator announced that they wouldn’t stop at King’s Cross for some reason or other; we had to get off at the next station.
When we finally got to King’s Cross by bus, it was just over 1am, but the main glass doors were still open. Well, at least we would have a shelter against the cold while we waited for the earliest train the next day. However, as we entered the train station concourse, almost by reflex we glanced at the huge information board where a solitary journey was listed – and you know what? It was our train, delayed by half an hour. The feeling of relief was indescribable.
On hindsight, if we had left the flat on time and the train was on time, we might have missed it, as the King’s Cross tube was closed. I could never have imagined such a series of coincidences…
But, I don’t think we will have such luck next time.
there is a big mirror at my flat entrance hallway..
other event of the day:
someone just had his hair cut..