Concrete jungle where dreams are made of

I can't be arsed to take to doll up before I go out. All I do is stand in front of my wardrobe, stare, grab a decent piece and go out. No more chio eyelashes, drawn brows or neat hair. Staying at home starts to be a more than enjoyable and willing thing for me since my bedtime is screwed.

Making through the day feeling sleepy but when it's bedtime I feel like a recharged battery till then there's no where to go. I don't club. Like duh! It's such a money sucker. I rather stay home and bake or wait for Singapore to snow. Well, you get my point.

Continuation from the previous post, I spent the entire day in Orchard holding one side of my dress while shopping with Benson who was such a dear to accompany me after I posted on twitter asking who is in town.

I was too whiny to spend the day along. Had to talk non-stop.

Smelly sweaty smelling Bakerzin's macaron.

Went OMFG when I smelt it. It's like eating a person who just ran a marathon without using deodorant. Worst smelling macaron ever. Buy it for the person you hate. You can pee on it then sundry. Bet the receiver won't even know.

xoxo,
ClaireChing