oh, eddie

Found a copy of this in one of the "art galleries" I took shelter in from the rain along Dong Khoi in Ho Chi Minh City. I could have had a Lichenstein for only USD 11.

the tour has no depose

This photo is dedicated to my lurve. "As know as de base. The tour has no depose."

Since I have been accused of not updating my blog -- and since I have some time to kill while waiting for my flight back -- here's a quick round-up of the buying-cum-eating trip to Hiong Kong earlier this month.

-- 50 cute brooches
-- 11 different types of fabric, 50 yards each
-- 5 days in Hong Kong
-- 4 pairs of shoes from H&M
-- 3 tim sum lunches at Maxim's
-- 3 cups of Hui Lau Shan mango-strawberry drink
-- 2 bowls of wanton noodles at Mak Noodles
-- 2 bowls of beef brisket
-- 2 trips to the post office
-- 1 bowl of sotong ball noodles

While Mousey had her unborn child -- tentatively named Bobo Wong -- I had mine too. I called him Tim. His father's surname is Sum. He grew at a tremendous rate during the short trip.

And the suitcase which can double as a murder accessory? It was filled completely with jersey on the way back.

foreign tongues and old men

For some reason, my Blogger interface is in Japanese even though I'm holed up in the business centre of a Vietnamese hotel. Not that it would be any better if it were in Vietnamese.

Anyhoo. It's cats and dogs outside, and I've been dashing from shop to shop along Dong Khoi the whole afternoon, popping into faux French cafes, pseudo and real art galleries, and a Nike store which looks no different from any one in any other part of the world.

At my last shelter from the storm, two dirty old men -- one hawking IHT and USA Today, the other just a nosey ah pek -- just can't leave me alone.

The nosey one asks me how old I am (he guesses I'm 22), do I have a boyfriend (my answer is a lie) and whether I'm a movie star (I roll my eyes at him). I tolerate his leering for close to half an hour, but when he harasses me for my phone number and then whips out his own battered Samsung phone to try to snap a pix of me, it is the last straw.

I dash out into the rain. I can hear the two DOM chortling in delight as the rain splashes onto my face.

suits me fine

This afternoon, I bought the biggest suitcase in the world -- okay, in People's Park Centre. I love the vintage-y tapestry material. I will never have problems identifying my suitcase on the conveyor belt again.



Still not convinced of its incredible size? Check out what it can hold.



The incredible bargaining prowess of my mother meant that I paid $250 for a 32-inch Samsonite priced originally at $899. And did I mention that she got the uncle to throw in a lock at half price and another lock for free?

think of me

I'm a philistine. Last Saturday was the first time I watched something at the Esplanade. It was Phantom of the Opera.

I remember being rather emotionally involved when I first saw it, what, nine or eleven or thirteen years ago. "So poor thing," I thought, when the Phantom wept for Christine.

Second time round, I just thought, "This Phantom is a blurdy fool."