Extension

I guess the events of the weekend spilled over into the week proper.

Went for the SRC event at Red Cross House last evening - ostensibly to collect some kind of certificate for my involvement in Team Singapore's (shudder) mission in quake-hit Pakistan. That's right, a certificate, because, really, that's what I was hoping for all along when I go overseas on these trips. More paper to use in some future job hunt; more weight in the CV when I meet potential clients.

Whatever.

It was good though to meet up with Tahar, Remy, Farah, Fred and Halifi again, which was my main purpose in attending the do-hickey. It's not often that we get to meet up anyway and I've learnt to treasure these moments. Even ran into an old friend from church (from before the Fall, obviously). I was rather amazed that we remembered each other's names; she was presenting on the night (turns out we missed each by one trip only: I was on Mission 2, she was on 3), so there wasn't much catching up we could do before the thing started and there wasn't much catching up to do afterwards because I had to be elsewhere. Still, it was good to see her again - and the one smoke break we share was cool enough. For now anyway.

Gave her my card, so she'd know where to reach me...

Learnt also that the exhibition that we got shafted on because someone thought cheaper was better was going to be on for one month. A whole bloody month. I hope the prints stand up to the torture of being outdoors under a tent and subject to all kinds of weather conditions.

Otherwise, if my images start to melt and run down the paper, I shall be rather put-off.

***

After the SRC event, I went down to Amoy Street (which seems like the place to be for us these days - was there two Fridays in a row before last night) to meet the cast and crew of Chestnuts for a party on their day of rest before they returned to the grind of production again tonight.

By the time I got there, the food had been served and there was only chocolate cake and a couple of bottles of champagne left to have. Still, and again, it was good to see familiar faces and spend a little time with them.

And to find out what my role in the whole thing would be. I must admit came as a bit of a shock when I saw my name among the credits but haven't done anything for them at all.

***

I was at the Chestnuts thing until almost everyone upped and left: some leaving to catch the latest installment of the Happy Rotter series.

Made my way to the Amara where Tintin was supposed to be meeting some of her friends at this place called Union Square, where apparently an NTUC card gets you half-price off drinks all night, all the time. What Tintin failed to mention was that it was a club playing only Latin music and where complete strangers go up to other complete strangers and ask them to dance. What's scarier is that everyone seems to know the steps.

All of the steps.

It was mesmerising in a strange kind of way. And very SDU in another.

Just did my usual mulling over a $6 bourbon and waited until the missus arrived, half-scared that someone would ask me to dance. OK, I dance, not very well - at least much better than the wife, but salsa? No thanks. I don't really want to take the risk of throwing out my hip or my back again, for that matter, gyrating to the beats.