Knee is still very stiff; wonder if this means arthritis at the age of seventy. Would you believe it if I said that I've been too busy to blog until today? I don't even believe myself when I say that.
Burlington Square is a weird place. It's a mishmash of offices-slash-residential areas with security guards-slash food courts with enough space for store owners to sit at tables staring into space while middle-age couples date albeit unromantic venue. After taking my TOEFL I was accosted by a complete stranger in the middle of my walk to the bus-stop. Fear that Sim Lim is an apparant seedy 'hood mixed with the possibility of his genuine concern that I was playing truant.
Realized I didn't say anything about The Caretaker. The Substation knackily transforms cramped to cool. Was frightened to look up in the middle of one bucket-drip scene and see hands through the grilled ceiling. So that's where the drip-pauses came from, what a fun job. Just noticed, too, that Musu Fazal (Aston) read at APM 2003. Did I hear him? No. Minioning outside, wonderful.
Had an unpatriotic weekend, too, unless you count reading the Straits Times Goh Chok Tong special and watching Singapore Idol. Everyone's been raving about fireworks; where does it all come in?
Had to describe the quirky American-high-school tradition of arriving at school in pyjamas the day after Prom Night.
Quarantine is coming soon.