Monday, January 17
1:11 am

party hearty

so quite the number of people have been asking how the yacht party went, a demand which, with a dramatically reluctant sigh, i have agreed to meet. and if any one of you dares to protest that i unsubtly induced the queries by going, "ask me how the yacht party went!" i will cut you.

yes, anyway. in a word? awesome. (oh you saw that coming.) in two? pukey partygoers.

things weren't looking too good at the start, what with us being shunted on and off and on the boat. but there were way fewer models than expected (they were "busy", apparently, though i strongly suspect they were the few intelligent enough to know that absolutely no one can continue looking fabulous while clutching her head and retching), a minor blessing in more ways than one - Dateboy and i had our own self-proclaimed stalkers - a gaggle of shutter-happy girls who were following us wherever we went. okay, isn't language beautiful? by leaving out the important bits, namely that
1) DB and i were clever enough to move to the only uncrowded spots on the boat each time, and were eventually bound to be followed by people also in need of air, and
2) the shutter-happy girls were kinda not snapping shots of us, only themselves,

it almost sounds like we really had fans! just shut it and nod, alright?

the first hour or so was pretty much spent enjoying the view. of course, the view to DB meant unfortunate shots of the esplanade.

there was another angle wherein another altogether... shorter building was framed, but DB got strangely touchy when i pointed it out, so i left it at that.







much gratitude to DB, He of the Occasional Actual Useful Talent (Who Knew?), who took most of these while i was busy teeter-tottering around in heels trying to regain my balance.

much hilarity was also provided by the aforementioned DB, who was in nastily fine form indeed. comments that won't get me tried in a court of political correctness include:

Mine Host: you guys alright? C's thrown up three times already.

[Pleasantries and reassurances of our well-being ensue. Mine Host leaves to mingle.]

[DB and I snigger unapologetically.]

DB: looks like we've got our own merlion.
(we'd just gone past the merlion outside one fullerton.)
(and yes, that's really close to where we'd set off from. three times, C?)

Me: [stifling laughter] oh, don't make fun.

DB: no, really. we should strap her to the front like a figurehead. that way when other ships go by, they'll look at us and go, "oh, that ship's from singapore!"

we docked at some tiny non-island (DB: "it's an islet.") whose flags declared it to be (part of) sentosa island. we were then briefly distracted by the jaw-droppingly prolonged yet substance-free argument between a few girls on what island it was ("is that kusu island?" "no lah, i think it's sisters island" "eh, i thought i saw 'sentosa'!" "but what about kusu?" ad infinitum) but shook ourselves out of that dark abyss where intelligence goes to die when dinner was served. eating at the bow, with the wind and stars in a wonderfully clear sky, it was easy to believe that perfection was humanly attainable. that is, if you could ignore the remixed britney blasting from the speakers. joke dedications, har har har.

the dj cut loose later on though, and more tolerable dance crap was pumped out. despite Mine Host's exhortations and threats in order to get us to dance inside where the smoke machine and disco lights were, the only dancing that went on (little as it may be) was out where we were. and while i'd love for you to believe that that happened because of our stunning star presence, the truth is that the outside's the only place with rails to hold on to.

Mine Host: my sadness at your carrying out the threat to cut off all photo opportunities with you if we didn't go in to dance was much tempered by that fuckin' awesome demonstration you put on to show us how, exactly, we still could dance inside by holding on to the sofa.
Everyone else: think "camel-butt".

aaaanyhow. we eschewed the after-party for a midnight screening of kinsey, about which i'd love to tell you more, but i'm due downstairs for supper way sooner than expected because the newly licensed Prom Prince drove at 130 all the way here. a few hurried last words: i'm gonna drive stick for the first time in like, forever! that was not at all a euphemism for something else, however accurate it may be! watch kinsey, it's a fantastic show!

eta: (yes, Flea, i do hate soft spots. thankfully this particular one has become nothing so much as a great big callus.)

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Comments.

 Anonymous • 17 January 2005 at 22:50

pet, i miss you. i've a fridge stocked with chocolates and meat. Come visit!
Love, Khad

 

 bedlamgirl • 18 January 2005 at 16:37

khad! i miss you too! :D ok when when? my schedule this year isn't too bad, plus i'll be umpiring a lot starting next week so i'll have a lot of free time while waitin for the matches to eat... uh, meet you. gimme a call or an sms lah!

 

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