Labelled by venitha

It's amazing what seems like a good idea after a two three several who's counting who can count margaritas as big as your head. Another margarita? Sure!

Jim, who oh-so-responsibly cut himself off much much much earlier than I did, has been in grave danger of driving me to mariticide with his unfathomably cheery, downright gleeful, disposition this morning. Complaining, whining, nagging, moaning: all of it has gotten me nowhere; he smiles brightly (Couldya turn that thing off?), gently kisses my forehead, and tells me that last night I was labelled. Huh? And I thought Singlish was obtuse.

Having killed off at least half of my brain cells, my blogging quality will surely be taking a steep dive, but you'll be happy to know that we finally got to celebrate our Sing-iversary in the much-anticipated Cafe Iguana style. Traditional lime margaritas to toast the milestone, a mango margarita to toast the wonderful new friends with whom to celebrate it, and a blueberry margarita to cheer the happy news that my big sister Valerie and my fabulous niece Kalyn (8), not to be confused with my fabulous niece Cailin (19), are coming to visit!

I could only be more jazzed if I were not so hungover. Finally, I'll have an excuse to spend a day at Sentosa, to make my annual pilgrimage to the Rube Goldberg machine outside the science museum, and, I hope, to go to Tioman for some snorkeling. Not to mention that after a month in the US this summer I'll have incredible incentive to return to Singapore (this morning's annoyingly exuberant Jim is chopped liver), as Val and Kalyn will come back with me, just in time to enjoy Singapore's National Day fireworks from our rooftop. Of course, margaritas as big as your head are a draw as well, and maybe by National Day I'll have recovered sufficiently to want another two three several who's counting ...

venitha