green

as S pointed out after dinner, living alone makes one conscious of independent consumption. in addition to my list of uncooked food, i also now know how many weeks it takes for me to go through one roll of loo paper and how many bags of trash i fill a week. i probably don't use much electricity because i live by fairylight and like the cold so i don't use the heater. not too sure how big a carbon footprint i'm leaving but i only do full loads of laundry, and every fortnight, plus i'm quite the recycling nazi, or so my corridormates tell me.

on an absolutely unrelated note, i can't wait to go home and have a party. a grown up party that isn't in a smoky co-ed corridor. with grown up wine (only wine older than us will be allowed in) and pretentious french food with names my chinese tongue can't wrap itself around. but the dress code will be sg appropriate because all them pupils will be tired of their penguin suits and if it isn't something that can withstand the 30+deg heat and 100% immunity then offending guest will have to stay with the young wine i.e. outside.

and then when everyone's had enough to drink, we'll skinnydip in the pool* with the lights off and the shutterbugs will promise not to take photos. and then we'll go to sleep on the floaties and wake up when the lovely equatorial sun shines on our faces and adjourn to the patio for pancakes and eggs benedict.

while i'm dreaming, i'm also dreaming that my precious will be less smelly because my sources tell me he's got a smell only a mother could love. sigh. poor baby, no one bathes him like i do :(

*V, remember that time there were 20 crazy girls and my brother saw us and ran away? yeah.