too little sunblock, too much sun Monday, October 11, 2004
1:26 PM
Rushed farewell greetings on postcards in the last half hour before they boarded the plane.
A good 10 days.
I would be reminded of him from time to time when I enter my lift. Remembering how he talked to the lady voice from the lift. And I had so much fun with her. And the singing along to Abba and swiss pastry and berliner and ba kwa and HDBs and propaganda and bad jokes. She's probably one of them whom I'd miss the most... And his macarena dance on the beach and how he said even in 10 years time, he would still take me skiing. And her excitement over belly button rings and the talk we had on the beach and her i-have-question questions. And his crazy transformation from the quiet guy to the scary guy on the dancefloor and the soft toy puppy he gave me and his mp3 player and chemical brothers. And his highly energetic monkey behaviour and how he taught me the finer points of appreciating wine and his cheeky smile and restlessness. And catching him yawn and sleeping on the bus even when he denies being tired and how we had a hard time understanding each other at the dinner and jokes about that and the shouting over music. He's probably the other one that I'd miss the most too. And his old school camera and his enormous appetite and his big friendly giantness. And her sweetness and how she said that she would write back and how she stopped in the middle of the road taking a picture of the ERP , scaring the crap out of me. And him loving the soft shell crab sushi and beer, beer and more beer.
And 2 hour hotels... and bon jovi and winks that only we could understand...