last saturday I:

1. Woke up to WHEN LIFE KEEPS HANDING YOU ANCHOVIES/ YOU COVER THEM UP WITH SOME EXTRA CHEESE/ AND MAKE A PIZZA/ WITH WHAT YOU'VE GOT/ JUST MAKE A PIZZA/ WITH EVERYTHING ON TOP. This is my alarm clock in the morning and it calms me down.
2. Was startled by the suddenly-bespectacled S at Harbourfront, who later took pictures of everyone's breakfast at Starbucks. MX ordered a egg white wrap that looked like a teabag. I had an iced ristretto americano. 
3. Walked around Safra eating a giant apple (courtesy of MX) and chocolate pebbles, waiting for the e-mart to open. We were so bored and desperate to kill time that we nearly got our nails done had MX not ventured into the parlour to discover the exorbitant prices they were charging for an imaginary sense of beauty and dubious, kitschy aesthetics. Also, we discussed the value of opening a cafe called Porn's.
4. Flew to Hougang Mall to buy ingredients for a yoghurt parfait with my DG. Canned fruit and low-fat yoghurt were all we could afford. We are heroically poor. 
5. Flew to Provence (the bakery not the sun-kissed place in the south of France. Unfortunately.) to meet A and A and to disturb SY who was working at the counter. I had a sesame pizza because the sign said FRESH! JUST BAKED! And really, who can resist a slice of pizza with the cheese still sizzling in tomato juice and grease? Who even cares about the gluten? I don't. I stuffed the thing in my trap like it was a calzone on steroids and made a huge and undignified — though entirely justified — mess on the wicker tray. 
6. Took a creepy video of MT grazing on curly fries outside the bare torsos flanking the soon-to-open Abercrombie & Fitch store at the corner of Orchard and Bideford (I love saying "at the corner of" it sounds like I'm describing my apartment in freakin Greenwich Village). Douchebags, take note! 
7. Visited Mrs H at her swanky apartment behind the Heeren; tried to absorb the egg tarts via telekinesis but the sesame pizza seemed to have clogged up my entire digestive tract.
8. Was brought out for dinner at the wonderful and magical Spizza's and we all had a great time + excellent conversation. Italian food is beautiful. Peranakan food is piquant, charming. French cuisine is challenging, elegant. Australian food is cosmopolitan and refreshing. But Italian food is beautiful, is sublime, is moving, is heartbreaking. It leaves a memory beyond what food was served at the meal. 
9. Called my mum to say I couldn't make it in time for the extended family dinner... a wave of guilt engulfs me.
10. Read I Like You: Hospitality Under the Influence by Amy Sedaris and then sank into a sort of fuzzy, I-Love-My-Linen, There-Are-Too-Many-Pillows-On-My-Bed, I-Feel-Bad-For-Turning-Off-The-Lights-Before-My-Family-Got-Home type of slumber. It's a complex feeling.