Singapore, so far.




Camelot’s long lost brother. (At the
Takashimaya taxi queue last night.)

The
most peculiar thing happened several hours ago. I plugged in my Mac and my power
brick (the white block that supplies my Mac with electron food) sparked and gave
off smoke. I only have 54% power left.

Aside from that, Singapore has been
kind. The regional creative directors’ meeting was not the bloodbath I usually
steel myself for; in fact, I think “mostly congenial” describes it best.

What sets this meeting apart from the
others I’ve attended is the amount of food I’ve consumed. Today I ate what I
would normally eat across three days. I’m worried that I won’t fit into my Ad
Congress outfit. (Yes, I know how trivial that sounds, but when you’ve once been
160 pounds and not pregnant, it happens.) This is the organizers’ fault, of
course, for bringing us to such lovely restaurants. Tonight was Jumbo Seafood at
East Coast, and I had four mantaos (fried buns), chili crab, two empels (fish
cake in banana leaf), four sticks of sate and coconut juice.

I’ve been missing Lucien terribly, and
smile at every little boy I see.