i have a million and one things to write about, about provence and islay and midges and paps and deer and oysters and quarries, but i’m not feeling very literary.

i’m feeling very bookish, and i’m reading a lot, but i’m just not capable of writing very much down in any coherent sense.

perhaps i will wait till i get my photos developed and/or uploaded before i write. or just wait until my muse returns with my writing.

for now, i’ve gotta pay my dues and rid myself of a library fine. and maybe buy a new pair of shoes.

alrighty i’m back for a day and a half before shooting off to scotland to see the northern lights (hopefully) and seals coming up to shore (definitely).

so saint-remy was beautiful like i expected it to be. we stayed in ‘the garden house’, at the bottom of the garden from the main house, that is usually rented out as a self-catering chalet-type thing, but more classy than a chalet - a self-catering cottage.

the party was at les baux in a quarry, and the rock is just amazing. great huge cavernous space, a really creamy white stone, terrible acoustics but hey who’s minding when there’s 250 litres of red wine to go.

the pre- and post-party stuff was definitely more enjoyable than the party itself, with brilliant conversations over luncheons and dinners with the expat community in saint-remy and the alpilles region. it’s a bit like how i’d like to be when i get to 50 - free to do whatever i want, and live wherever i want, after soliciting my ass for a couple of decades.

but anyway, we also went to see les antiques - a roman relic - and more disused quarries, there was a walk around a lake, a lot of lavender and olive plantations, and a lot of swimming and jacuzzi-ing, sitting on deckchairs and suntanning. oh, and so much eating and drinking.

great trip, shame about short length of time. i hope we go back soon and spend at least a week, because only that will truly do it justice.

and it’s off on a summer holiday we go.

it’ll be all sunshine and croissants, pastis and cafe au lait. oh, and a birthday party too.

the weather in london’s turned muckyickypoo after a week of gloriously hot weather - 30.7degC at its hottest, averaging 26-28degC most days. just like back home, but without the 90% humidity.

now it’s all grey and eurgh, and even torrential rain. good for my plants while i’m away, bad for me if i stayed. i’d been starting to get worried about my plants and the heat, but now i think they’ll be okay. although if they do die, there’s nothing really much i can do about it. *shrug*

oh well.

saint-remy, oh how i look forward to thee ~

my brain is slowly turning into Pimms&Lemonade flavoured mush. yum.

shopping was a joy, although the crowds were not. lunch in the churchyard off covent garden was amazing - not the lunch, the churchyard.

it’s been so hot and sunny i can kind of imagine that i’m back in singapore. but it’s silly, because in singapore, i only come out at night. daylight hours are spent at home asleep. ok, so maybe i do go for lunch sometimes away from the confines of my air-conditioned room, but i head out in my air-conditioned car and insist on lunch in an air-conditioned venue.

until i get used to the weather, or until the delights of amoy market, jalan leban, roti prata, simpang bedok and maxwell road are too much to resist.

but anyway, back to this heat. i’m hoping that it’s going to hold over the weekend, for we are having a petanque picnic party (also known as boule, bites and beer) in ford square. it’s going to be fun!

ok so exams are over. YAY!

i have about 3 months to do absolutely fuck all except sit in the sun, get drunk, read a lot of fiction, take a lot of photographs, go to a lot of places, have a couple of barbecues and oh, also attend my graduation ceremony.

now i just need to recalibrate my body clock so i can stop waking up at 8am. it’s too early for a bummer’s lifestyle.

i miss holland village and teh tarik ais. do you think hokkien mee can survive a 13hour plane journey?

i am such a bozo nincompoop airhead. a total complete idiot.

only a complete idiot like me will wake up at half-six all excited to take her last exam and then discover at 7, after downing a huge cup of coffee, that her exam is at 2.30pm. not 10am as previously thought.

so what else is there to do but to go back to bed and try to get an hour or two more sleep.

and like, you always think it’s something that happens to other people. oh well, haha not funny anymore, it’s happened to me. how ego-deflating, to realise that i’m one of those people who mix up their exam timetables, those bimbos! those idiots! those clueless people!

but hey, at least it wasn’t the other way around, and i’d gotten up at 10 and then found out that my exam was taking place without me.

ok now for more coffee to wake me up again.

but when you have 3 FULL DAYS between the one paper you just did with ultra-super-duper confidence that you will so completely pass and the next one which is the last paper of all, it’s really not so bad.

and it is also why one ends up in the school bar knocking back 3 gin&tonics in a row (only because they ran out of the ginger ale required for a whisky&gingerale) on an empty stomach after having been up since half-five supposedly to cram in case names and statutory provisions, but really just watching the sun rise.

i’ve made plans for next friday already (already, i know!), and have been derided for my post-exam activity choice (shopping), and have also had one of the best catch-up conversations i’ve had with dear friends whom i see too little of in a long time (topics of which included sativa, hong kong, maybelline, gut rot and a rave in an irish castle).

discovery of the day: wasabi up the nose completely clears a drunken head. true that.

no wonder them jappies drink so much and still walk into the office the next day as if the night before never happened.