Massively missing

Resuming regularity. I'm scouting for the perfect house which can be quite a bitch, and one thing's for sure, I need to keep abreast of property trends from now on. Several districts have caught my eye, in particular Holland for its iconic windmill, 24-hour Cold Storage and the complete coolness of having Wala Wala as a variant Kedai Kopi.

Two months into the new job. I suddenly feel I'm cooped up in a local vacuum after meeting the new hirees - a Brit boy who grew up with Razorlight and, an Iraqi who, just last Monday, satisfied her 23-year old craving for a McDonald's Happy Meal, amongst several others.

I need to recalibrate into a global citizen. Not flats, but buildings. Not can, but sure thing. He's a man, not a bloke or a mat. Work's demanding now that I'm active on the desk where even the most minute of errors might tarnish our integrity. Homonyms are evil.

Hakim has just left for San Fran and L.A. I can't tell you how much I'm so proud of him, especially in those mere snapshots clicking like epitomes of growing up - the way he chose his disposable underwear, the way he stuck the numbers to dial on the refrigerator's door, or the way he stood under the electronic board with eyes roaming for his departure gate number. I can only fervently hope the mammal that's residing is his nose better come out soon so that he'll stop picking on it.

With all the life swirling around me, I badly need a bath date with trashy erotic lit. Or a good dance session - robotic moves included.