As I left the flat this morning, I called back to my house guest and apologised for having to get to work so early, explaining I was “off to shape my future.”

The words just came out of my mouth, without my realising what I was going to say.

That phrase stayed with me the whole morning, and, ultimately, gave my the strength to do what it was I needed to do, as I sat at my desk, waiting for the right moment when I could catch the head of a team that had just been set up alone. That moment came and I pounced on it and made my pitch.

While it may not lead to anything immediate – or even anywhere at all in the future – at the very least, I can take pride in the fact that I have, for the most part, always tried to make my own path.

And isn't that what living to the fullest is all about? Having the courage to take risks? Whether it's something as small - and, yet, as fear-inspiring - as talking to the cute guy at the bar, or as big as approaching a work colleague to tell them you'd like to get involved in what it is they're doing?

While on the phone with my mum who often gets names mixed up:
Mum: Your dad asked me to tell you Michael Jordan died.
Me: ...
Mum: I mean Michael Jackson.
Me: You didn't do that deliberately?
Mum: Nope.

So, fifth date with CG and I've finally found out his surname. It's all been a bit Before Sunrise-esque prior to that, with both of us chatting about anything and everything, yet not giving away enough information about ourselves for either one of us to really be able to figure out anything really personal and meaningful about the other person. In fact, I might be being a little too generous in calling them 'dates' but as the times we've met up have involved two people meeting up to hang out, I figure it's just easier to refer to them as that.

Anyway, it was his turn to select a movie, and I've got to say his choice was far better than the ones I went for. Of course, one couldn't ever go wrong with North by Northwest, which has got to be one of the best movies I've ever watched, if not the best. It may have been made 50 years ago, and parts of it do look a little dated, but the dialogue, acting and overall plot are incredible.

Without giving too much away, Roger Thornhill, as played by Cary Grant, is the original Mad Man, and it's no wonder he survives getting a bottle of bourbon poured down him and is still capable of driving a car round the twists and turns of a mountain ride. In fact, that scene - with Grant's hilarious expressions - is one of the best in the show.

And right on the heels of this is this great exchange Roger has with his mother over the phone, when he calls her from the police station after he's been arrested on suspicion of drunk driving.

Roger: No. No, Mother, I have not been drinking. No. No. These two men, they poured a whole bottle of bourbon into me. No, they didn't give me a chaser.

I don't want to give any more away, but if you haven't managed to watch this film yet, then, run, don't walk, to your nearest DVD store and buy it now!

Oooh, baby, baby! How awesome are these Salt 'n' Pepa shakers?
Available from drinkanddream's etsy shop.

[via RetroToGo]

In spite of the flu, I have recommenced dancing... specifically, swing dancing, my first love and one which I gave up upon entering the wonderful world of work many years ago. But, seeing as my new job, inconveniently located though it is, affords me the time to go out and pursue hobbies, and after seeing the incredible dancing les français indulged in at my friend's wedding, I decided I missed it far too much to go on without it. But rather than go diving straight in, I'm dipping my toe into the waters by re-taking the beginner level classes. It's not too bad, even though I'm itching to go further, something which the teacher recognises, given that my styling shows even though I'm trying not to show off in the class.

I really would like to learn West Coast Swing though. It just seems a little more versatile, music-wise. If only there were classes in central London, rather than somewhere out in the boondocks!

It wouldn't be summer if I didn't get the flu (no, not that one). *sniffle*

Man, I really want to watch Paper Heart. It's so incredibly sweet that a documentary turned Charlyne Li's quest to understand love into real-life love. And I love Michael Cera. He's just so adorkable.

And just how cute is the couple's mad dash from the cameras?

It seems more than a little odd that whenever someone else asks about one of my ex-boyfriends, another one - or even two - will pop up... not in the same conversation, but just that another one will get in touch, mysteriously, as if I've somehow managed to summon up the ghost of boyfriends past.

So, in the post-wedding conversations, it was inevitable that my old friends whom I haven't seen in close to ten years would start quizzing me on how my life was going. In the process, we discovered that my ex-boyfriend was now going out with someone who I'd known had a crush on a good guy friend of mine, the same guy friend whom I like but would never do anything about because of any number of reasons, including, but not restricted to the fact that he's an ex of a good friend of mine, although I need to stress that my feelings for him while they were together were nothing more than platonic.

But I digress. When I had confirmation that the ex was indeed seeing someone else, even though it's been ages and I have absolutely no desire to get back together with him, I still felt a slight twinge. Fortunately for me, another friend mentioned - in relation to another incident not involving me or any of my ex-boyfriends - that she thought it was perfectly normal that people would feel something upon hearing the news, which made me feel better.

And then, as we were driving to the airport, I looked at my phone only to discover two missed calls from another ex-boyfriend.

Strange, how all these things seem to occur in clusters.

As for the most recent ex... well, a member of his family passed away just a few days ago. I know he loved that person dearly even though they're not related by blood, and a part of me wants to be there for him, because he doesn't talk to anyone when he's upset, but I'm refraining, because I recognise the cost of my being there for him is a price I'm not exactly willing to pay. I'm still angry, and I still hate him - because that's really the only way I ever get over people - but I still care. But, for now, I'm keeping it all electronic.

I am back in London after attending my best friend's wedding in France. Like many girls, I have a few best friends, because 'good' doesn't even begin to describe the kind of relationship my friends and I enjoy, and this one is one of the oldest and dearest friends I have.

She's one of the few people I'd do anything for, including standing up in front of a room two thirds full of strangers, and one third full of old friends, and give a speech I was only asked to do a few hours before (not by my friend, she's far too nice to do that to me), even though public speaking makes me incredibly nervous.

She's also the first of all of my best friends to get married, which may account for why her wedding's also the first one ever to make me think, "when's my turn?"

I'm well aware that every 'successful' wedding should have "un chop et un puke" (or in English, "one hook-up and one throw-up"), and while I was quite amused by their efforts at attempting to get me and one of the groom's oldest friends as the former, on this particular occasion, I wasn't about to double the number of wedding hook-ups I've done no matter how cool this guy appeared to be*. Thanks anyway, dear.

Seriously, though. For the best friend who's been so great in spite of the demanding nature of her work, and the physical distance that's been between us for a fair amount of time since we graduated, and until I moved back to London, for the wonderful girl who's usually the first to hear about the guys in my life - whether it's good news or bad news - for the fantastic girl who's incredibly smart and so successful, I'm so happy she's found someone entirely deserving of her.

Fèlicitations, ma chère amie. Je t'aime.

* And fine, I'll admit to being a little disappointed he didn't join us the next day after he said he might turn up. He did make up for it by texting "thanks for the seating arrangements!" to the groom though!

Spotted: new graffiti on Borough High Street (near the staircase leading to Borough Market) by one of my favourite street artists. I’m incredibly thrilled because it’s really cute (I {heart} Space Invader) and it wasn’t there a week ago when I passed by! At least, I don't think it was...

One of the many benefits of the tube strike is getting to see things you wouldn’t normally see being stuck in the tube. That, and an additional half-hour of cardiovascular activity. Woo!

Redchurch Street is a little street just off Bethnal Green Road and is unexpectedly filled with the most adorable little shops. I wandered down it the other day looking for the Swanfield Pop-Up Boutique only to find that everything had finished by 6 pm. Tired and thirsty, and desperately trying not to ruin my freshly manicured nails, I popped into Franzè & Evans, a newly opened Italian deli near the boutique.

Franzè & Evans was set up by art lover Nicolas Franzè, lawyer Clare Evans and beauty therapist Theresa Lococo with the aim of serving up quality Italian home-cooked food. As their web site puts it, you'll find Theresa cooking in the kitchen, Nicolas at the counter, and Claire overseeing the cafe, doing the things the Italians can't or won't do.

What first drew me to the cafe was the display of Bialetti Moka Express espresso makers in their window. Also, the cafe was nice and bright, the perfect antidote to the dreary, grey rainy weather that East London had just experienced. And, there was a can of brightly-coloured tulips on every table, which was definitely a nice touch.

Check out the Moka display in the window

The stacks and stacks of Italian food on the shelves was also a major pull factor; I just love delis, even if I never buy anything from them, as I generally feel they're priced a little past the point of reasonableness. I didn't check the prices of these guys, so I can't comment on whether that's the case here.

Small cappuccino (£1.90) and biscotti (£0.25)

I ordered a skinny cappuccino and a biscotti; I wasn't very hungry, and as I mentioned earlier, I was incredibly tired - a nail session lasting over two hours will do that to you - and just wanted some place I could sit down before I caused further damage to my nails.

The cappuccino was decent. I don't think I paid too much attention to it, as I was very thirsty and I was also engrossed in reading Zoe Heller's short story in The Observer magazine.

And seeing as I've mentioned them twice already...

Freshly manicured nails

Freshly pedicured nails

All in all, Franzè & Evans was a good place to chill out and just luxuriate in the pretense of being a tai tai for a few minutes. It's located conveniently near Brick Lane (it's less than two minutes walk from where Bethnal Green Road meets Brick Lane), but just far enough away that it's not too noisy, it's large enough (unlike most coffee shops which don't have much space for more than five people to sit down), it was nice and bright and, best of all, it opens till late-ish. What more could you ask for on a lazy Sunday evening?

Franzè & Evans
101 Redchurch Street
London E2 7DL
Tel: 020 7033 1910
Open Mon to Sun from 8 am to 8 pm

As a result of bellaphon's comments that he felt Loong Kee was better than Cafe East, my friend and I made our way to the former just to check it out. My friend is an ardent fan of Cafe East, and was the one who'd introduced it to me, so who better to check this place out with than her? We were joined by P. and A. who was visiting for the week.

Our first impression was perhaps not the most flattering one of the place. After all, who on earth distributes menus when the restaurant name is so obviously incorrect spelt?

That being said, we decided not to judge this particular book by its cover, but rather, by the taste of the food.

There were a lot of items on the menu. In the end, I whipped out my Blackberry, scrolled through a few reviews, and settled on the crispy squid and bahn cuon thit to share.

I quite enjoyed the squid, as it was nicely chewy, while my friend confessed she preferred her squid to be soft and a little mushier, so we had to disagree on this dish.

Crispy squid

As for the bahn cuon thit, we felt this was rather disappointing. It tasted nice, sure, but there was very little meat inside. In fact, when we commented on this, one of our other friends who'd just eaten one said, "Oh, there's meat inside? I didn't notice!"

Bahn cuon thit

Still, these were just the starters, and we'd been told that what Loong Kee was really good at is its pho. So all four of ordered the pho with raw beef. This is what arrived.

Pho tai with 'raw' beef

Now, unless the soup was incredibly hot - and I'm not saying it wasn't - I don't think my beef should have cooked that quickly. When my friend ordered the same dish at Cafe East, the pho arrived with the beef nice and rare. Over here, all four dishes came with the beef already cooked, even though we'd all ordered raw beef.

I thought the soup was above average, although I preferred the one at Cafe East as it had more flavour. In fact, I tried to replicate the spiciness of the Cafe East soup by adding chilli sauce to my soup but to no avail.

On the plus side, the serving was of a good size. I couldn't finish the beef or the noodles, and managed to drink about 2/3 of the soup.

The bill for four of us came up to £32.50 excluding service. I ended up tipping a little less than I'd normally tip as I was a little put out by the pho, and, more importantly, by the fact that Loong Kee charged £0.50 for a glass of tap water (free refills, apparently). Yes, it's on the menu, but the waiter never came by even once to fill up my tiny glass of water. It's not a posh restaurant, that I get, but there's still something to be said for a basic level of service.

Would I return? Maybe. It's easier to get to from where I live compared to Cafe East, but with other places like Song Que, Cay Tre and Viet Grill equally nearby, I think this place would be my fourth choice at best. The one instance I might go for Loong Kee would be because this place is BYO, which is always a handy option if you're looking to limit the damage done to your wallet but still have a bit of a boozy night out.

Loong Kee
134G Kingsland Road
London E2 8DY

Read bellaphon's review of Loong Kee here.

Yay! I love thrifting! While at the East End Thrift Store's giant jumble sale on Saturday (yes, I admit it, I was among the first 15 customers, having got to the store half an hour before it opened so as to avoid a repeat of Angels whereupon I arrived a little after opening to find a queue five hours long), I got myself two bags (Tod's and Kate Spade!!!!) and a Gianni Versace dress, as well as other assorted goodies (a scarf, a tie, a slip, a skirt, a couple more dresses) all for just £10! Yes! It was one of those "all-you-can-stuff-into-one-bag" offers. You could opt for a £10 bag, or for a bag three times larger for £20. Best of all, you could wander around the store and come back and swap the size you'd chosen initially without any hassle.

And today, I made my way to the Issa and Made in Heaven jeans sample sale and bought myself a white t-shirt and a swimsuit for a grand total of £11.

After all of these bargains and discounts, I'm finding it a little hard to return to shopping at full price.

Occasionally, the blogosphere throws up some incredibly fascinating sites: Jamie Livingston's Photo of the Day is one such site. I discovered this yesterday while trawling through mental_floss. Mental Floss' Chris Higgins stumbled across the photo site which seemed to be by a man who'd taken a photo of himself every day from 1979 to 1997,, and set about investigating as to who this man was. Read his post to see what he found out.

[via Wall Street Journal - Mobile Reader]

A year ago today, I was (among) the happiest person (people) in the world. Who wouldn't be, after completing the final level of a gruelling professional qualification, and knowing that there was a chance you'd finished with it for good?

Anyway, one of my favourite topics of the CFA programme was behavioural finance, a topic which only came up in Level III. It's also one of the more annoying theories, because, to any mathematician or logician, it's not much good having a theory explaining the potential mistakes investors and fund managers make if there's no way of coming up with an equation or applicable solution which can prevent the mistakes from happening. That being said, I still enjoy reading about it, having had the privilege to stumble across James Montier's writings a year or so ago, and having listened to Richard Thaler's speech at the annual CFA Institute conference in Orlando earlier this year.

For those who weren't so fortunate - or academically inclined - there's an article in today's Wall Street Journal explaining this in layman's terms. It's a good read on what any investor should look out for and is especially pertinent during these turbulent tmes.

I love A Softer World.

alt text: only love can break your heart.

Originally posted on June 3rd.

A truly vintage Sunday. I didn't realise that Marks & Spencers 125th anniversary extended to more than just digging out old clothing designs, but also to the food stuff they used to sell oh-so-many years ago. I was very tickled by the vintage labelling as I walked past my closest M&S and couldn't resist taking a photo.

Marks & Spencer 125th anniversary store display - aren't the retro colours and patterns just so pretty?

Earlier that day, I'd gone a little vintage crazy in Brick Lane. I'd popped over to my current favourite vintage store (The Brick Lane Thrift Store on Sclater Street) but wasn't able to find anything. On my way back, I popped into Vintage Heaven (184-186 Brick Lane) where I found a little black dress - most likely from the '80s - by Scott McClintock (son of Jessica McClintock) and a pair of shoes which matched the dress perfectly for just £40. I'd been in an LBD-hunting mood for quite some time (Hah! Which girl isn't ever in that mood?) so this was something I couldn't quite resist.

Vintage strappy black heels (£10)

Then I proceeded to do further damage to my wallet by walking through the Sunday Upmarket. I can't remember why I did that although I think something was going on at the Truman Brewery so I thought it'd be easier to get past by going through the market instead.

Unfortunately for my wallet, I managed to walk past a stall which was just setting up even though it was 4 pm. The American lady stallholder, as it turns out, was a bit of a late-starter (so she said). And she was having a bit of a crazy sale on all of the vintage costume jewellery on display. The pieces which were normally going for £10 each were now two for £10. And the more you bought, the better it got. In the end, I walked off with four pieces for £17 and an extra piece thrown in for free.

L to R: vintage gold bracelet from the '50s, vintage floral bracelet, scarf pin, '70s gold floral necklace and '60s gold/silver necklace and earring set.

It turned out to be a timely purchase, for now, I had something - or rather, two somethings - to brighten up my outfit to meet CG who had returned from his overseas trip. But that is a story for another day.

As for the costume jewellery seller? Well, she'll be at the Sunday Upmarket every other Sunday. She also sells beautiful vintage watches, which was why I stopped at her stall in the first place. She's already admitted that her prices won't be that good all the time, so I'd urge anyone who likes costume jewellery - and that's me to a T - to get down there ASAP. If you're not sure as to whether you're at the correct stall, just check to see if the lady's from New York and taking a gemology course in London. If she says yes to both, that's your lady.

I'm a big fan of Mexican food, and an even bigger fan at anything considered a good cheap eatery. Wahaca is supposed to combine the two, having been The Observer Food Monthly's pick as being the the Best for Cheap Eats in 2008.

Now, I've walked by the original on Chandos Place many a time but never at a time when I had the time to kill, or when I was hungry. On Saturday, I happened to be at Westfield, having somehow found myself there after meeting with some people I'd met via Meetup.com, and figured that I might as well grab dinner there, rather than starve on the journey home.

So I wandered into Wahaca by myself, had to wave at one of the waiters so that I could be seated - I guess not too many people dine solo at Wahaca? - and tried to figure out what I should eat without going overboard. That's the real problem with eating by oneself - variety's not on the cards if you don't have the mouths necessary to justify ordering a selection of dishes.


While reading the menu, I was startled by someone plunking himself into the seat opposite. It turned out to be my waiter who took me through how the menu was structured. While I appreciated the gesture (he repeated it with every other table that came in), I was a little taken aback by the fact that he'd sat himself opposite me to explain this. To be honest, it felt like a tiny invasion of my personal space (this being my table, after all). Tiny, but an invasion nonetheless.

In any case, I ordered two small dishes of street food: pork pibil tacos and chorizo and potato quesadillas. These were served with a selection of mild and hot salsa.

A selection of sauces

I really enjoyed the pork pibil, as there really isn't any slow-cooked pork dish out there that I don't enjoy. And, coming after the halal lunch I had earlier in the day (which involved, horror of horrors, a dish of chicken char siew, a dish I thought I left behind after Singapore began importing pork from anywhere other than Malaysia aka the Japanese encephalitis period), the pork was most definitely welcomed.

Pork pibil tacos (£3.75)

The chorizo and potato quesadillas, on the other hand, weren't so great. The menu described the filling as as being made of Wahaca's "special organic, homemade Mexican chorizo, fresh thyme and steamed potato" but there was no taste whatsoever of chorizo. I doubt there was anything more than a few bits of chorizo, although there was certainly a lot of cheese.

Chorizo and potato quesadillas (£3.75)

Now, the main reason I'd ordered two small dishes was because I wanted to leave space for dessert: chocolate y churros. I'd obviously had some when I want to Santiago de Compostela and was a little disappointed (the churros tasted very much like you tiao, and I thought they were supposed to be cinnamony and sweet), and thought I'd give it another go even though I was now back in London.

Churros y chocolate (£3.40)

While I liked it - it's hard not to like anything that has molten chocolate as a dipping sauce - there was not a trace of cinnamon nor sugar on the churros. Wahaca's web site describes churros as being coated with sugar and cinnamon, so what happened?!

All in all, Wahaca's definitely a cheap decent place to eat at. The staff were generally okay; I definitely can't fault the friendliness of my waiter, who confessed to the American-born Indian couple next to me that he, as a Mexican, loved Taco Bell (which I do too, even if I've only eaten at the ones in Singapore, but then again, I also think Carl's, Jr. makes the best burgers, so maybe I'm just a junk food addict). I was a little disappointed by the food though. The next time I have a Mexican craving, and if I'm not on a budget, I'll head to Green & Red rather than Wahaca. This being the credit crunch times though, Wahaca will have to do.