Dinner with the Senior Counsel was simply beautiful...

The Acacia provided a great Al Fresco experience. We were in an oasis, dining amidst verdant palms and the fragrance of Frangipanis. Thankfully, no mosquitoes came to bug us...it would have ruined this wonderful setting.

The food definitely needs to be improved. A credible rendition of Aglio Olio was marred by rubbery mussels that were unbearably dry...The Caesar's salad was pedestrain and lacked panache. It was also missing the mandatory poached egg. Needless to say, I was unimpressed. Worse, we had to pay for chilled water...and that came in a bottle of Ice Mountain...The pauper's Pellegrino...

The menus were quite tatty as well...I spotted at least half a dozen spelling and grammar errors...I don't usually do this, but these mistakes were just too glaring and obstrusive...

"Ceasar's salad" anybody?

"Muzzles in white wine"?

When a menu contains too many typos, it reflects quite badly on the establishment.

The saving grace of the bistro is the warm and unobstrusive service. The wait staff were attentive to our needs and even placed a mosquito coil under our table. Of course, this was after they overheard me complaining! Rather vocally, if I may add.

After dinner, we went for some sweets at Olivia's in Serangoon Gardens. I am a big fan of gelato. I've always had a soft spot for lemon and tiramisu, but I decided to give other flavours a try. The emerald green apple looked enticing enough, but it was cloyingly sweet. There was no semblance whatsoever to the taste of green apples. It tasted as fake as a silicon implant. The Mocha was not too bad...I was pleasantly surprised by the thin topping of rich coffee dust.

The Senior Counsel had the Oreo gelato...she got her teeth black, which I found really cute.

At the end of the evening, I sent her home. It was very dark and I could not tell which house was hers ( I swear I know the difference during the day!). I sent her to the wrong house...but she was cool about it.

In a sense, the past two weeks have been surreal. I still can't believe that we are doing stuff together. It seems as if we never lost touch in the last three years. I don't know what the future brings. As of now, I am perfectly contented to enjoy her company. It's great to just take her out for dinner once awhile and listen to her talk. I feel very blessed that she is back in my life.

Somehow, I believe the feeling is mutual.

A socially embarassing situation...

I went to meet K. for dinner last night at Clarke Quay. I had intended to dine with her before she flies off to HK for work. It was a surprise when she led me to a table for ten...My surprise was compounded when some young ladies came over to join us. I was wondering what the occasion was when it dawned upon me-

It was her birthday.

And I had clean forgotten about it.

K.'s friends took turns to present her birthday gifts. I was frantically fishing in my pocket, hoping that there would be a bracelet or some other female paraphenelia that one of my female acquaintances had accidentally left. Unfortunately, the only thing I found was a calcified STARBUCKS serviette that had survived a couple of washes in my jeans. I looked around, desperately thinking of a way to save myself from the impending ignominy...All this time, K. was raving about her new GUESS bag and DKNY watch. The serviette was certainly not in that class, although I believe that it could pass off as a paper machie rose...If you squint really, really hard, that is.

Needless to say, I was struggling to keep a low profile the whole evening. Thankfully, nobody pointed out that I was the only person who did not bring a gift. I was pretty certain that everyone noticed, but at least they were kind enough to keep quiet about it. Anyway, I was utterly sullen throughout dinner. Most of my time at the table was spent chasing my mango pudding around the plate with my fork...

Worse, I had assumed that dinner was gonna be real casual, so I was completely bo chup about my appearance last night...just a pair of over-sized jeans and a simple white long-sleeved shirt. A total mismatch, but at least it was comfy. My hair was in a complete mess as well...not the funky kind of mess...the Tim Burton or Jack Black kind of mess.

Tragically, the lady sitting by my side was a babe. Training to be an SQ girl.

It was one of those awkward American Pie situations. A non partisan third party observer might find it mildly amusing. However, I vowed never to leave the house without making sure that my hair was sensibly groomed. There is a limit to how confident you can appear to be in front of chicks when your hair looks like a vulture's nest!

The chit chat between the babe and I was banal, trite and inane. I must have come across as a boring dullard whose sole recreation in his black-and-white life is collecting stamps. Actually, I don't even collect stamps. I think that collecting stamps requires too much effort and commitment. I prefer to spend my free time lazing in bed.

After dinner, we adjourned to a nearby watering hole for drinks. We were herded into a plush VIP corner with a TV screening ESPN sports news. Unfortunately, the place was quite stuffy and hot. I was grateful to have a cold tangy Cosmo in my hand. At last, I had found a spot to relax! I exhaled and lay back as the house band massacred Yellow, Runaway Train and High And Dry...

N.'s phone call woke me up from my little reverie. For the uninformed, N. is a presence that has been hanging around in my life since a a few weeks ago. Close friends who know about our shared history call her Poison Ivy. I think that she's essentially a sweet and impressionable young person who sees in me the elder brother she never had. It's all very Freudian, really. I just wish she'd cut down on asking "How's your day?".

I don't think much would have changed in my life in the 8 hour intervals between her calls.

Shortly after, I said bye bye to everyone else. I was persuaded to linger a little longer, but I wanted to catch the last train before the taxi uncle had the chance to bleed me dry. As I left, I could not help but feel that the night ended quite well. The food was not bad, the drinks were quite good, and the company was great. It would have been fun if there were a few more guys...After awhile, shopping, slimming tips and Italian men become pretty stale topics. Especially if repeated ad nauseum.

To all my friends out there, please let me know if it's your birthday BEFORE we go for dinner or drinks. I don't wanna get caught forgetting birthday presents again! It's really embarassing.

On a high note, I'll be having dinner with her again. Yes, the Senior Counsel. That's definitely something to look forward to:)

I need a lorry...

I'm typing this while taking a much-needed breather... For most of the day, my dad and I have been struggling to transport my stuff to my new living quarters. We've been taking turns to drive back and forth between Bukit Timah and Kovan because we can't fit much into my dad's car.

Fridge man came in the late afternoon. Unhelpful %^&* did not even offer to help us bring the fridge to the third floor, which I currently occupy.

My parents bought tons of self-assembly from IKEA. I'm not Bob The Builder, so getting everything up was a painful task. I wish I could say "but in the end, I managed"...unfortunately, I can't say that. Even as I type this, the whole place is strewn with dismembered metal limbs and random slabs of plywood. I am desperate to remedy this chaotic state of affairs and transform the mass of debris into functional furniture. It's going to take much more time and effort on my part.

There is no internet connection. The only way to use the net is to hijack wireless signals from other users in the vicinity. This act is somewhat unethical and I am striving to find a better alternative. Till then, the poor people living around me will just have to endure slower download speeds and the occasional lag...I will be going around trying to convince my new neighbours that using software designed to provide network security leads to obesity and balding...Oh, and changing your network settings MAY expose brain cells to dangerously high levels of radiation. I wonder if anyone will buy that...

My uncle left me a wardrobe. The mirrors are green at the edges and the lacquer is peeling off. According to him, the piece of furniture has been in the family since 1959. Is it a sacred relic? I have no idea. I just hope lions and witches don't fly out while I am reading Anson and Neumann.

I suppose I'm really lucky to have my own space 15 min drive away from school. At the same time, I am expected to be wholly responsible for the cleanliness of my living quarters. Living as a squatter on one of my uncle's properties implies that I have to conform to some rules and regulations. For instance, I am not allowed to bring girls into any of my rooms (does that mean the toilet is ok?). I am also not allowed to move around outside the confines of the third floor after 10pm. Otherwise, I could activate the motion sensors and send the whole world into a state of panic...The motion sensors are programmed to notify my uncle through his mobile upon activation. The last thing I want is an angry uncle flying down from his house in Clementi to bite off my ears.

Moving is really, really tiring...I'm so worn out that I don't even have the energy to stand. The whole place is still in a mess. Somehow, I think the condition of my floor ( I can't think of an appropriate word since it's neither a room nor a house) mirrors the the state my life is currently in.

But I guess it's time to clean everything up.

This is an absolutely shity day

i realised that some seniors were reading my blog. One of them was pissed cos it made him look bad. I didn't mean to slag off anybody. Seriously.

I did not intentionally put anybody in a bad light. Having said that, I wonder why I feel like a bad guy now.

An innocent post about a gathering led to serious repurcussions. I guess it was misinterpreted. Whatever it is, boundaries have been drawn and gates have been locked. It's kinda difficult to change anything now.

I suppose I should apologise since I hurt someone who says that he is now at the nadir of his existence. However, I'd really like him to see things from my perspective. I mean, I really made a conscious effort not to identify anybody. Besides, how was i to know that others are reading? I've never given my url out to anybody who does not know me well.

At least he has tons of people around him to say that "things are ok" and stuff...I'll have to weather this storm alone. I am starting to dread the first day of school. Suddenly, the sky seems much darker and bleaker.

Things are worse because the seed of mistrust has been planted. I bet even if I apologise, things would hardly get better. I'm just really, really sianz ji pua that I have to step into law school with shit hanging around my neck. I bet I will be ostracised from Day One...doomed for eternity to eat alone during breaks and study alone before exams.

I have not exactly called my senior to clarify matters yet. I guess i will evade him for as long as i can. From now on, I think I'll have to take a detour if i see him walking towards me. I think it's stupid that I have to feel this way. It's not that I am guilty. It's just really unpleasant. I shudder when I wonder what goes on in his head as I walk pass him along the corridor. I do not think I've done him any injustice. After all, I did not insult him in his face or behind his back. I merely talked about a gathering at his house.

I think both of us are victims of the circumstances. I was hurt when he published a post on his blog with a link directing more people to come to my blog...so now more people can look at the post. I think this is the worst way to control the damage. By the way, I'm going to remove the "offensive" post. I'm feeling kinda mad myself cos it was never meant to be offensive in the first place. Secondly, I did not slag any individual off...and even if i did, it's my blog rite? I've never had to erase something on my blog just to make someone feel better. Never. This is the first time.

I was also really angry that he did not call me to clarify matters. We have been friends for some time and I expected him to let me know, either privately or otherwise, so I can take an appropriate course of action (ie delete the post or whatever). Instead, he placed a link (without my knowledge or permission) to my blog and made a really, really big hoo-ha regarding the matter. I mean, if you find it so offensive, why broadcast it to the whole world? So that the rest of the world can stand on one side AGAINST me when term starts? So that more year twos, who have only heard your side of the story can point their fingers and judge me? So that people think I am a conniving snake? I dunno man.

Maybe I am a connivng snake after all, destined to crawl on my belly for the rest of my life. I'm pretty certain I will be crawling on my belly for my whole life in law school.

The shame is too much to bear. I cannot take it any more. All I can do now is pray that I would not be some leper outcaste when school starts. It's really sad cos he was my favourite senior. I really identified very well with him. Looks like those happy days are over.

I better find a comfy spot in the shadows. I'll be lurking there in solitude and misery for a long time to come. And the worse thing is...

Nobody's here to say "it's ok".

The last few days have been damn hectic...Every second seemed to be filled with some kind of activity....I barely had time to exhale.

Anyway, my dad's month long vacation is coming to an end. I realised that I have not been making a decent effort to bond with him during his break. I'm afraid to say that I am guilty of neglecting my parent. Hence, I resolved to spend two days with him before he returns to the drudgery of work.

Screw the RAG practices. Screw work. Screw salsa...Oh, and take a break from affairs of the heart at the same time.

Day One went well enough. I took my dad out for a spin to Seletar Airport and Marina Bay.

Seletar Airport struck me as being grey and desolate... yet the area around the hangers and runways held strong rustic charm. The quaint neighbourhood along the peripheries of the airpost boundary was extremely serene and tranquil. It reminded me of Singapore in the late 1960s. I did not live in that era, but have imbibed enough of its cultural essences from my parents' photo albums. The names of the little lanes that intersect the area are extremely Anglicised. I was laughing non-stop at old-fashioned English street names like HAY MARKET and BAY WATER RD...Somehow, the street names were so culturally out-of-place that they seemed stupid.

At Marina Bay, the scenery was quite different. It was just grass and a bit of sea...I drove to the pier and we watched some Malay boys fly kites for awhile...I was beginning to get bored until my eye fell upon a a parked car that was vigorously swaying from side to side. It's so ironic that some Singaporeans are so shy about sex (maybe pretend one...) while others are having so much FUN in pubic...erm, I mean public.

On day two, I was supposed to take my dad to the beach. Unfortunately, I overslept and he decided to proceed without me. Needless to say, I had a guilt attack when I woke up. I failed to keep my promise to take my dad to the beach.

"Was he paddling morosely in the shallows even as I slept? Staring enviously at the happy families at the beach?"

"Did he feel lonely and neglected?"

" Was he mistaken as a homeless tramp? Alone and with no kith or kin in this cold and cruel world?"

Questions like this haunted me even as I watched Scooby Doo while I waited for his impending return.

Upon his return, I launched into a dramatic display of affection in order to ameliorate the situation. My warm gestures were met with some half-hearted grunts...

Luckily, the situation improved by lunchtime. I took my dad to church and we made a small donation. I thanked God for all the happy things that have been happening in my life recently. Of course, I hoped that he would make my father feel more sanguine as the day progressed.

We had lunch with my mum at Shashlik. Personally, I have a vendetta against the grouchy and grumpy wait staff there. However, I offered no protests because I believed that it would have been more prudent to exercise some verbal restraint. Lunch was not that bad, actually. The Borsch was piquant, with dense flavours and a smooth finish. The Oxtail stew that I had was robust and flavourful. The flakes of tender meat literally fell off the bones.

Unfortunately, a perfect dining experience was marred by the face of the waiter who served us. His expression was even more sour than the sour cream in our Borsch.

After lunch, I left for assignment. Today's assignment was the Daphne Khoo interview at Dome. A new photog was covering the thing today, so I had to meet him earlier to tie down the details.

I must say that this new guy is quite pro. He knows his stuff as well as Paul.

However, it was the photog's assistant who left an indelible impression in my mind. Usually, society in general sees assistants as subservient effetes who have no style and zero input (in terms of opinions, ideas etc.) This particular assistant seems to have alot of ideas and is super-enthu when it comes to "chute pattern" time...In addition, the PA's bohemian-metrosexual get-up really made a BIG impact. His style is a unique blend of Andy Warhol, Willy Wonka and Jack Sparrow...In fact, he reminds me of Santino from Project Runway 2. Honestly, I think the spotlight was on him the whole time. It was his idea to have the photo shoot at HOME CLUB during the launch of West Grand Boulevard's latest album. Initially, we just wanted to get it over and done with at noisy, crowded Orchard Rd. Ker is so lucky to have such a great PA...

Anybody wants to be my PA? Haha...I need someone to follow me to the launch party next Friday. Free cover and drinks to the party, but you must look as stylo as Ker's PA ok! The good thing is, you don't have to do anything...cause I intend to go there and just pretend to do work!

Just joking lar...haha

Anyway, the interview went really well. Daphne is THE dream interviewee. She was very responsive and warm. At the same time, she's not like some girls who simply cannot stop going on and on about themselves (we all know who lar, I don't say you oso know lo)....And she paid for our drinks. It was really, really sweet of her.

Moving to my new living quarters is no mean feat. I am deeply appreciative that two Angels were helping me buy furniture from IKEA even as I was on assignment. Thanks Mum. Thanks Dad.

I promise to study hard and be a good son from now on. Oh, and I promise to take very, very, very good care of our car too!

This is me before make up...Taking a group photo with Turkey(Yunxin) and Monkey(Munloh)...I am not the happiest clown in the world... 

Went to NUS high for carnival today...

Kena arrow to be the clown by Tris and Charmaine Neo. Moral of the story: Never get caught doing nothing.

Job scope of clown was pretty simple...Just walk around giving out balloons and taking photos with the intellectually disabled kids from the M.I.N.D.S schools...I was perspiring like mad after one morning of posing and running around. Some of the little kids were damn scared by me, so I guess I had less photo-taking ops than the other clown.

Make-up was the worst! Initially, this chiobu from OG2 already help me make until swee-swee liao, but then Patrina just had to come over and mess up my face with red paint. In the end, I looked like a transexual Geisha with ketchup all over my face...Wah lao eh Patrina!

Anyway, it was quite a fun carnival lar...lots of games, a lame shit magic show and performances by rock bands.

After carnival went to King Albert Park...and then to Khelvin's house to chill...Played some drinking games there with the rest of the Dragon-Tiger clan...Heng I only had the urge to pee and not to puke. Ironically, the designated puking point is next to the catering van parked at Khel's neighbour's house. Apparently, Khel's neighbours were playing host. It would have been so gross to witness one of us puking while the guests are enjoying their scrumptious Chinese dinner...

Left Khel's house around dinner time to go to Al-Ameen...damn long never go there liao...food standard has not improved. Rev wanted to try the Milo dinosaur there...so the rest of the clan settled on that place for dinner. Dinner was another ultra long talk-cock session.

All said, it was a great day. I'm looking forward to next week's dinner at Brewerkz...

Oh, Thanks for selling the law texts to me Patrina...really appreciate it lor...

Absolutely beautiful evening.

Had dinner with Miss Chee.

It was the first time in three years that we met for a meal. Dinner tonight was simply an unforgettable experience. The food was great, the ambience fine and the company perfect.

When you've missed out on somebody's life for three years, there will be many, many spaces to fill. We spent the evening filling up these spaces.

It was great catching up on old times and talking about our dreams and aspirations. I felt really blessed to be able to share my thoughts and feelings with someone who matters.

After dinner, we spent some time looking at scrapbook materials and piano scores. I enjoyed every moment that I spent at the handicraft shops and the piano score section@ Kinokuniya. I never knew that crepe paper and semi-quavers could be so fascinating.

Perhaps it was just the lighting of the store...

Thanks Sharon. I hope you had a great time too.

Do you enjoy your life?

To me, it's really important to live each day as if it's your last.

Lately, some of my friends have been calling me out because they are being overwhelmed by a sense of disillusionment. To some of my peers, the workplace has become a cold and unforgiving prison. They have ceased to feel beauty in their lives and see the world around them in a cynical light. A number of my friends had lofty dreams and aspirations...some yearned for high-flying corporate careers, others a chance to make important decisions in the civil service. However, many confessed that their dreams have turned out to be nothing more than empty delusions after a few years on the job.

It's amazing how quickly the heart can lose it's innate sense of wonder. It takes just a few weeks for a passionate and idealistic fresh graduate to change into a subservient, overworked wage slave. The biggest irony lies in the fact that this wage slave considers himself to be blessed with a job...Are human beings really so easily contented? Or is there something more in life that we should all search for? These questions keep my mind occupied just before I go to sleep.

Take a look at the rush hour crowd at City Hall....I've never seen a commuter who looks genuinely happy with his life. I think the gravitational pull in our MRT carriages is especially strong-somehow, everyone's face is pulled, twisted and distorted to form a glum and sullen frown. You realise that the only people who seem immune to this odious "frowning syndrome" are the children...and sometimes they too succumb, especially if they are bearing the heavy burdens of their school bags.

Someday I'd love to visit Buenos Aires or Rio De Janeiro...There is something in the lifestyle of Latin Americans that is so contrary to the empty careerism that many of us suffer from. Something at the heart of Latin American culture inspires a lust for life. Many Latin Americans are relatively poorer than us in terms of wealth, but they lead lives that are so much richer...Our poor whine about rising prices... The poor in the barrios and favalas of Brasilia do the samba. It is interesting to note that the Brazilian government does not give out any Progress Package or utility rebates to the poor folks in the slums...yet they continue to dance and celebrate the beauty of life.

Do you take enough time to smell the roses? I think it is important for all of us to appreciate what we have before us. Earlier, I talked about how a job gives some people some form of contentment...I'd like to point out that this sense of "contentment" is ephemereal and transient. Real contentment lies in opening our hearts to the beauty of what we have. Take time to praise the people around you. Take time to count your blessings. Take time to remind yourself that God is watching your back.

Ok, an end to the philosophical portion of my post.

Last few days have been really tiring...flying between NUS and Rosyth Primary to fulfil my dance and teaching commitments. A memorable incident happened to me on Tuesday.

Rosyth was hosting some students from Shanghai. All the teachers were reminded to check our students' behaviour and appearance in order to leave a good impression in the hearts of our guests.

As usual, my class was loud and wild. It seems that every time I step into a class the kids have to go berserk for at least 10 min...I wonder why they are so happy to see me, even though the feeling is rarely mutual.

Over the course of a couple of months, I have grown quite close to a few students. However, what happened on Tuesday left me totally stunned. The P was bringing the Shanghai kids around our school when an anonymous Rosythian dashed across the corridor screaming,

" Miiiii-sTerrrr SiiiiiiiiM!"

and then proceeded to give me a bear hug!

Well, what could I do but smile? It would have been a bit impolite to forcibly extricate my leg from the little one's embrace, would it not? The little boy's entourage surged forth and followed suit. For a moment, I was nearly strangled by the deluge of little arms around my body. Some of these kids have not taken a good bath for awhile, so I was hoping that they would show some restraint in their physical affection. However, that was not to be...they seemed adament to drown me in their sweat and saliva. Bunch of cute Saint Bernards....

The Shanghai students were equally stunned...They simply could not imagine hugging their own walnut faced teachers!

Anyway, this is the high point of my first working experience...not the long hours spent reading Archie in the library or the lazy afternoons spent drinking coffee in the staff lounge. Getting hugged by so many young Rosythians in front of these foreign guests is the highest honour for an ex-Rosythian like me.

I love the kids cos they are so human. They are not "sugar and spice and all things nice"...neither are they little Angels...By the way, the boy who hugged me asked me if I could chop off his form teacher's head and then teach his class forever.

I think I would look back on my teaching days with much fondness and nostalgia...and to think I hated teaching so much when I first started!

Tired...Shagged out...Humbled...

I can't believe that practice one could be so overwhelming...

My brain is numb. My legs are aching. The pain in my left arm refuses to go away.

I feel as if I've just done 7-11. Twice.

My current predicament implies that I have to rest in bed for a couple of days. Unfortunately, this is a luxury that I cannot afford, considering that the next practice will be held tommorow.

The seniors in charge of R.A.G have great expectations...Expectations that the Year Ones have GREAT problems meeting. Honestly, how many people you know can do a cartwheel? Or launch their body into the air through an inverse push-up?

The warm-ups alone are enough to chill the blood. We had to lift a girl to shoulder level and spin around with her supine form propped against our upper bodies. It was a nightmare doing it with C., who could not stop laughing hysterically everytime I picked her up. For God sakes! Shuddup and lie still!

Next, we had to lift a girl by her hips and hoist her unto our shoulders...L. was my partner for this exercise. The other guys in my group were making irritating catcalls and wooting away because L. is a really hot sophomore. Unfortunately, I was quivering in nervousness and had zero confidence of pulling this off...I ended up head-butting L.'s derierre because I could not hoist her high enough. Both of us ended up in a tangled mess on the floor.

My head hurt. I think her buns are made of titanium alloy. Or possibly adamantium.

The final component of the warm-up was the 360...The movement is as evil as it sounds. We had to grab our female partners' waists and rotate their bodies 360 degrees in a corkscrew motion. On Saturday night I spilt orange squash on someone's ipod at a party....Bad karma finally kicked me in the ass today. My partner for the 360 was a behemoth...I struggled to fight against gravity while the rest of the world formed a mini spectators' ring and cheered me on. I felt like I was arm-wrestling a rhinoceros...Eventually, I managed to lift my partner an inch or two above the ground, before collapsing like a detonated building...At least everyone went to ask the girl if she was ok...so nobody bothered to laugh at me.

Before lunch break, several seniors with Rambo physiques urged me to join them for their daily routine at the gym.

You would expect lighter physical activities after lunch. Unfortunately, that was NOT to be. If anything, the activities got even more intense...Thank goodness nobody was vomitting laksa or Mee Goreng!

The boys and girls were separated. The guys followed a senior nicknamed "THE BODY" to undergo a punishing regime of cartwheels, freezing, hand stands and the fear-inducing "Caterpillar"...Initially all of us could not do anything...After intensive drilling by "THE BODY" ( probably a commando instructor in the army), almost everyone could do most of the stunts by late afternoon. Except me.

I admit that I was not exactly in top form; especially after being crushed by an oil tanker in the morning. However, I was really frustrated that I could not do stuff that the others were able to pick up relatively easily. ARGH!

Worse, someone had informed the seniors that I was a level 3 salsa dancer! So I was suan-ed the whole day...Can you imagine seniors hollering, "where's my dancer?" when they are looking for you? One particularly irritating one keeps on calling me "Mr. Salsa"... He injects this salutation at strategic timings, mostly when I am at my weakest and most vulnerable. For instance, when I topple over while attempting a cartwheel, he will sneer and go, "How are you feeling Mr. Salsa?"

Well, at least the day ended on a positive note. Just as I was packing up and getting ready to see a sinseh, a cute chick came over to talk to me. She wanted to find out more about salsa, so I basically puked out everything that I had memorised from Wikipedia...Of course, I did it in the most romantic and passionate manner...For a moment, I transformed myself into Fabio, Man of Men....Hero of smutty Romance novels and gay icon...I slipped into my role well enough for her to get my number. Thankfully, she did not realise that my fly was down and my Burberry boxer shorts were insidiously leaking out of the gap on the crotch of my pants...Phew! Talk about making the right impressions!

Outside the Moot Court...I'm blinder than Stevie Wonder with a bean bag on his face...For some reason, Dawn is amused. 

At Sam's 21st Birthday Party...Clockwise, Jess, Royston, Sam, Celia and me 

My date for the Law Ball...From Year Two...Standing next to her makes me feel fat! 

At double O 

Audrey and her Harem...Seconds before my face was accidentally kicked by her foot... 

Justin and Nick before Law Ball....and before he saw who his mystery date was...