Girls' Night Out

i think i've become so accustomed to terrible things happening to me when i go out at night that when a perfectly normal outing occurs, my system overloads.

read: no aged-angmoh-spg-seeking-men-leering. no cheekohpek-legs-on-stool-pointing-and-dialect-dissecting. no indian/pakistani/sri lankan-constructionworker-eyes-glowing-in-the-dark looks. no horrific dance moves atop podiums. no freakyrickys' lurking in dark alleys.

in other words, as normal as normal with me can be :) it's been awhile since i had a *GNO with the girls.

i still remember the first and only proper *GNO we ever had, hosted by me. amidst a flurry of makeup suitcases; our mothers' lipsticks and eyeshadows, blushes and brushes, glittery hairclips and glossy hairdos were our teeny tiny IJ shorts: a requirement stated on the invitation- the must- have item in order to play the default partygame for hormonally challenged convent girls: truth or dare. in awe of the magic equation: cornflour+water=? wow. watching "i still know what you did last summer" which made them run up and down my staircase in avoidance and us to hold on tight and pray for dear life.

"if you want me, come and get me! I'M RIGHT HERE!"- miss jennifer love hewitt

we sat in circle, tealight candles surrounding us in a watered down half-baked schoolgirl ritual. we promised to do it again, but keeping the promise was just not to be. it was the last time.

6 years later, our idea of fun has changed, fundamentally. heh, get it?

tonight was all about the chillin'.

this was a not so modern day lounge bar along clarke quay, quaint in its own precious way. antique-ish furniture filled up the little pockets of space all over. the bartender must've taken one look at me and thought: kids nowadays ah.

he said a little resignedly,"sweetheart, we don't serve cider here." SWEETHEART? what am i, 12? at least he didn't call me 'girl' or something. haha. actually, it sounds kinda cute. i'm a sweet-heart :) he called me that for the rest of the night..

we made our way upstairs despite/because of his warning, "there's no one to meet upstairs." which only acted as a stimulant as we hastened our steps in a bid for a central perk of our own.

the sight that greeted us was a welcome one: padded benches that surrounded the perimeter, folds and folds of vibrantly gold sprinkled mustafa-ish fabrics draping from the center of the ceiling, a pool table, a rusted looking coffee table at the foot of, get this: A BED. it instantly reminded me of the club in Sex And The City amptly named 'bed'- i just had to make the reference *grin* when i peeked over the sides of the balcony that framed the upstairs, i could get a clear vision of the beer swigging socialising crowd below. good enough.

so we got our place. i just wanted a place to chill after a LONG week of school, sherl needed a semi-quiet place. we were very contented, me especially. i claimed the bed as my own- plopping down and spreading myself around on it. hah. room for NO ONE else. we were catching up, drinking our mildly alcoholic drinks and enjoying the soft rock music. photos? ah-be-duh.

gen and sarah insisted i looked like a porn star in the first shot taken on the bed. i was wearing my ballerina top, hk dark denim fitted jeans and my glittery 'christmas ornament' prom shoes :) i had discarded the gaudy gold chain strap off mummy's old bag. voila! transformation complete: one pretty vintage greyblack&white checked clutch? tick.

i tried to be daring, for a change. instead of the usual 'fresh faced' natural make up look i went for, i smudged my black eyeliner atop soft sparkly pink eyeshadow with a matching blush from my childhood play-makeup set *laughs* milder on the skin i suppose. glossy lips.

everyone looked amazing.

'the return of dressing up to go out'
- tracy philips i adore.

gen, looking sexy and casual in black and denim. i'd expect no less. sheryl, the surprise of the pack- daring to bare almost all in a printed halter and denim mini. her usual bohemian chic took the form of a glass (i think) beaded necklace and a peasant scarf around her hair. sarah, black tube as usual and i forgot her bottom (oops). i noticed we were all wearing heels, them- black. me- sparkly silver, sequins and beads. WHEE!

anyway, the rest of the night was either forgettable or i can't remember; which basically means the same thing. i vaguely recall hailing a cab [new discovery: comfort cabs' midnight charge starts at 12 = 50%. city cabs' midnight charge starts at 1130 = 35%] OR it could be the other way around.

hmm. i learn a new thing everytime it's 1156 pm and i think i've beaten the midnight charge; only to find out that BEEP! nope. it starts at 1130 pm. tsk.

a.n.y.w.a.y. sarah was complaining about our partypooper tendencies [explain some other time] "it's not even 12!" she said- gen sheryl i: [pre hailing and entering cab] madly cursing at taxi drivers who pretended to be HIRED when they SO obviously were NOT. we zigzagged across the empty streets like 3 times just to find a strategic location- yeah. all for a TAXI -.-

yada yede yodo yudu yidi.

[post hailing and entering cab]: giggling like the ex convent schoolgirls that we were. psychotically taking pictures on gen's digicam (will we ever get tired of our own faces? NO) taxi driver got semi-irritated with my *ahem* infectious laughter. reason: sherl kept giving these shocked weird retarded faces because of the flash, she just COULD NOT smile properly. which really got me going. until i choked on my saliva and had to stop; just in case my saliva blocked my windpipes or something. *the look*

i got home last. what fun. we promised to do it again. this time, WE MEAN BUSINESS :)~

*GNO stands for Girls' Night Out.
*FYI. For Your Information.

*GNSTDLTBBB.
Good Night,
Sleep Tight.
Don't Let The BedBugs Bite :)
*GSD for short.

i just realised something-> it's actually really easy to remember. GN general/STD sexually transmitted diseases/LT lecture theatre/BBB buyer behaviour business

now, how easypeasyish is THAT?

VERY.

la la la...