Doing a double take walking past Burberry and realising their new pinup boy is… Ioan Gruffudd. Why? Why?! *shakes fist*

Jules imitating classic James Bond lines in bad Indian accent, after hearing that Hrithik Roshan was apparently in the running for the role. “Bond. James Vishnu Bond.”

Someone finding a pair of Oakley’s while out to dinner and immediately assuming it’s mine. Others who come across them say, “Hey, your shades are on the chair.” I am not stupid enough to place my recently returned A-Wire Oakley’s (with new frame!) on a chair.

Omg so many numbers.

Omg so many contracts.

Omg project going out of control!!

Yay!! No flamenco class this week!! My feet can rest!!

When I bought those Billy Joel tickets for Papa (awesome seats, btw), I didn’t expect to put up with an education in his music (not that I paid attention) in the days leading up to the concert, nor did I think I had to put up with listening to record after CD, along with a commentary (!!) about each song.

All I expected was an ecstatic father enjoying a live concert by one of his favourite artists. Not this… fanboyism. I refuse to believe that this crazy is genetic, dammit.

Papa absolutely loved it, which totally justified my giving up half a week’s pay. He said it was a world class, professional performance. The old lady said Pa got upset towards the end because Billy Joel didn’t sing Piano Man, a signature song or something – he did during the encore so Pa was all happy again. What a freak.

Unfortunately, he still hasn’t stopped playing the music at home. T___T And he said he’s going to keep playing Uptown Girl until I stop saying it’s by Westlife. Yes, it upsets him. I wouldn’t aggravate him if he wasn’t slowly trying to kill us with Billy Joel’s songs.

I think my ears are practically superglued to these headphones now.