I discovered my true love tonight.

It all seems as though it was predestined, as though fate itself conspired to put together a series of events which would culminate in the discovery of what my dream is.

First off, there was the unexpected swing dancing at Harry's on Friday night. Then, there was the BT article which my friend sent me on how Singaporeans are brought up to be practical - and not to be dreamers, and that we've all lost the ability to be passionate about something we truly love and enjoy. And then, there was Dirty Dancing 2: Havana Nights.

Don't get me wrong. The plot of the movie is incredibly thin. I knew that if I allowed myself - for just one second - to dwell on the storyline, I'd condemn the movie... so I just focussed on the dancing. The dancing was good enough that I drank it all in... and it reminded me of why I love dancing so much and why dancing just makes me so happy whenever I'm doing it. Not the normal clubbing kind of dancing, mind you. The social dancing. The swing dancing, the cha chas, the rhumbas... all of that. Whenever I'm doing it - without fear of being criticised or whether I'm doing anything badly - I'm incredibly happy.

Maybe that's my real dream after all. To dance, not to travel... and perhaps not being the boss of a Fortune 500 firm.