gnatweds

Okay okay, I hear the howls of protest at the non-update of the blog.

Echoo - heeloooo - I get it. Hahah. Snort.

But dear readers, you are not the only ones who have had to play a waiting game in the erh... last 10 days or so. In fact, the waiting game is a realllyy appropriate theme for this particular post.

So it started last week: I had to pick up my new biometric passport - there was less than six months' left on the old one - and they do destroy the new passport if you don't go down and pick it up personally within the stated time period. And yes, you will lose the $70 you paid for the application anyway.

After one failed, and expensive, attempt to pick it up (the queue was waaaay too long and I stupidly took a cab there - so I had to hail one to get back to the office after I stalked out of the immigration office in an absolute huff). I went again early one rainy morning - anticipating that I couldn't go that far wrong because every sane Singaporean would want to avoid the awful weather.

I was half right. Despite it being relatively empty (I got a parking lot and I managed to get a queue number very quickly), it was a shockingly pathetic feeling when I realised that there were a 128 people in front of me - and I had no book! Nothing to read! arrrggghhh

This was 40 minutes into the wait. My number... was get this... 2392. Yes, I almost drove myself insane with the rather limited games on my mobile phone. And hence, the photo too.

Government efficiency? You have got to be kidding. And this, according to a friendly security guard I was bitching to, was one of the better days he'd seen.

It's almost ironic. Because they give you rebates and ask you to apply via Internet or Post, but still subject you to a 2-hour wait on a good day. Hummm... there is something in this equation that doesn't seem quite right.

Oh, but at least there was a fun-er waiting game over the weekend.

The FA Cup Final between Chelsea and Man U.

Now, am not ordinarily a football-watching girl, but there I was at Muddy Murphy's, watching this interminably long game - the winning and only goal came in the 117th minute! - and it really was quite a wait for the game to be over so decent conversation could resume again.

Awful shot, but at least it shows how crowded the pub was - and yes, *somehow* I too managed to get sucked into watching bits of the game. Enough now to know who Rio Ferdinand is and that Drogba is French.

Okay. Right. I amused myself while waiting for my colleagues to finish with the game by popping in my iTunes ear phones and drinking copious amounts of wine.

Cyn and Dom (seated). Dom, by the way, was the one who wanted drinks in the first place - but then insisted that we go to a place with a TV - he had forgotten the Game was on when he proposed drinkie-poos you see. Why agree to a football night? Simple. He is my boss. Hahahah!

Ailien (left) looking as interested as she could look. Yup, you guessed it folks, she ain't a footie fan either.
And Sharon, who after suggesting that I retake her photo, proceeds to rasp the camera - right. Guess which pix made it cyberspace... hahahahhaha. The temptation was too great.

Oh, the object of my affections the entire night.

yes, quite unlike Gene's choice tipples as described on freshspottedmushroom, this one... ahem... let's just say, its not quite going to play in the big league anytime soon. But it was relatively cheap - well, SGD40 is cheap here lah. I know, I know, I can buy an amazing bottle with that money back in Rochester - but back there I didn't have any money!

The ironies of life!

Speaking of cheap and dear: Whoa, check out the price of this tiny pack of US cherries. (love fresh cherries).

Yup, 10 bucks for less than 500 g. Ouch! That was my treat to myself over the weekend. Couldn't bring self to buy anything else - there were these gorgeous plums at the supermarket, but they were going for... cough... gak... choke.. SGD2 each!

Well, just a cutesy picture to end off this post:

The Force be with you, young Jedi, may. Huurrmm?

Well, I can't do Yoda-speak well, but you get the idea. That, by the way, is the extremely spoiled cat getting a rub down after her fortnightly bath.