Blank Doll.

My little trip to Genting can be summed up with but a line.

It was shit and I'm never going back there again.

Ok, I appreciated the opportunity we got to spend time together as a family because I love spending time with the family and all. I do not however appreciate the annoying violation of principles.

Look, given that labour, rent and capital input along with ingredients cost less than it does in Singapore, it makes no sense for Starbucks to charge the same amount (you got it, 14 malaysian dollars for a frap) in Malaysia as they do in Singapore. Do you perchance expect Singapore to charge ten bucks for filet-o-fishes in that disgusting dump we call Mcdonalds just because a burger costs about 4 euros in Mcdo in Paris?

So I did look kind of silly ranting about purchasing power and nominal exchange rates at the counter when all I really wanted was to find out if the deformed danish at the counter really did contain cream cheese.

I did enjoy today a lot more. Spent the morning stocking up on food for ops room duty tomorrow. As everyone knows, Sean has an aversion to camp food and this has been aggravated after my unfortunate encounter with the SFI gestapo dude who first spied on me as I clicked the "not ok" button on the food survey, thus violating the sanctity of my privacy, and then had the cheek to interrogate me on why I did so. Hello, the fact that I only eat camp food like once a month answers that. Hell, "not ok" is a perfect understatement.

Oh anyway, I prepared a cream cheese and sundried tomato spread along with smoked salmon and wholemeal bread so I'll have a really nice dinner tomorrow. I also packed dried apricots and granola for dessert. So healthy am I.

Spent the afternoon at the library browsing. There are a few hefty tomes about the world economy in the 15th century, Chinese foreign policy, sartorial directions for men, the politics of spices, ASEAN and the world, the science of chocolate and the lot. As usual, I experienced another bout of existentialist crisis, schizoprenia and neurosis because of this:

Navel-gazing moment: My pscyhe is composed of two distinct, almost inimical parts. The one delves into politics, public administration, history, business, economics and knowledge; the other wants to explore fashion, gastronomy, architecture, style, molecular mixology, textiles, design and luxury. Everytime I experience doubt, it is because these two different aspects of me clash. I can see myself either as a very competent civil servant or as a kick-ass designer. But I can't be either and sooner or later, I fear I have to drop one of them lest I never be whole. It appears I can no longer tread both paths as I used to do in school and sooner or later, I have to choose. Do I give up this frippery of an ambition and commit my energies to the politics of beauracracy or do I surrender my (!!) intellectual credentials and let the dior homme take over?

Anyway, dinner broke the spell. Fosters is one of those places that serves English comfort food. It's authentic enough I suppose if not for the weird pasta offerings. I had the roast beef though come to think of it, I wished I'd taken the fillet instead. Solid apple pie, would have been better served with a pitcher of cold cold cream instead of ice cream.

Speaking of which, I bought a copy of Wine and Dine on a whim and discovered that I hated it. Journalism nul, information nul, editorial nul, total nul. I have read better food blogs that were more elegant, more informative and with more elan. Thank you very much, I can now add you to Urban and Vogue Singapore.

C'est tout.