vodka and fudge *edit

"Sometimes the only thing that works is fudge. And vodka. Vodka and fudge. My mother would be so proud... "

... ...

"You know what? This is the perfect end to the worst day."

"Ever ever ever."

"Hear hear."

cashmere mafia

i was watching this episode (5:17) of cashmere mafia on youtube.

believe me, i can relate.

bitching sessions over fudge and vodka; i could so mentally picture us in our pastel coloured flat sitting pretty atop notting hill, lounging around the living room after a shitty day at work. just sitting eating and talking - girl-bonding ya know? - cracking each other up with asian jokes and getting drunk (more so with mandi and myself, not so much lili - unless, over time we've magically managed to convince her of the merits of inebriation).

i admit, i often imagine life sans bfff-departure. i imagine it to be perfect. the perfect friends, flatmates, travel companions, partners in crime.

after a hectic 9-5 (unrealistically speaking), coming home to a warm and cosy safe haven, preparing dinner together, sharing our woes (either work, boy or life in general), having spontaneous britney spears-backstreet boys singalongs on youtube. random hugs to fulfil the daily quota. being part of the chic notting hill crowd; coffee at cafes on weekends or sipping tea and nibbling cupcakes as we people-watch from our doorstep. thank-god-it's-friday night drinks in soho. buying fresh fruit/flowers whilst chowing down on assorted food from street stalls in portobello on saturday afternoon. sunday brunch and vintage shopping at brick lane/spitalfields market.

sigh sigh sigh.

life could be so perfect.

this is the way it should be
and given time,
this is the way it WILL be.