dress me up, dress me down.

the day started off well enough; stuffing a charcoal pill down the sick doggy's throat, a couple of slices of french toast and two blueberry waffles to go. the rest of it though, didn't go so good.

'the rest of it' being - storming through the house like a hurricane, hair wet and uncombed, lunchbox vitamins waterbottle and heels in a paperbag in one hand, bag in the other, hopping around shoeless while trying to gather all my belongings and get out the door.

climbing up a slope in the blistering heat - not such a great idea. trying to hail a cab in aforementioned heat - worse idea, in fact, totally out of the question. i sweat so much walking out, i wonder if all my makeup melted off in the process.

sorry! i'm trying super hard to concentrate, but 'the fugitive' is on right now. harrison ford, tommy lee jones, diving off that billion foot high thing into the water canal - ooh. gimme gimme. i love love love this show. when we were young(er), we totally used to re-enact that scene in the pool at raffles marina.

i walk up (and down) numerous slopes, eventually get out of the estate, to the bus stop and on a bus. the moment my bum is comfortable parked, the aircon blowing on my face, i take out my tiger-print (at least i think they're tiger print) superhighheels and slip them on.

god knows why, but there's something about putting on a nice dress and heels on public transport that gets to me - in a good way of course. it's so... sex and the city (to me), so... grown up. i like the feeling; chin up, back and shoulders ramrod straight (heels have that effect on you), standing tall in my high high heels. the print on my dress is supposed to be african-inspired and tribal-esque, but i felt almost amazonian.

i didn't last long in my zena-the-warrior-princess tiger-print shoes; no one was asking, i was just saying. thank god for flats. halfway through the day, scratch that, morning, i swapped my skyscraper shoes for more sensible black patent ballerina flats. the ones i brought along, as a backup.

everyone was wondering how my height managed to fluctuate so dramatically within such a short period of time. tall short tall short. heels flats heels flats.

that, and mum calling up to yell at me for not taking passport photos like i promised. at the exact moment i was serving a bunch of really 'teenage' teenage girls. and the memory of that night clouding all judgement and taking over my senses.

i have no words.