This St. Valentine’s Day, accompanied by Dana and Ruben (for the most part), I had the distinct pleasure of

  • sitting in a bacon laden restaurant (The Hungry Pig), eavesdropping on some young’uns chatting about our magazine
  • getting my nails done in a cheap wee place in the backpacker area,
  • eating sushi nearby,
  • taking tacky Tet/Valentine’s photos in District 7 (that most suburban/American of districts),
  • wandering around the only park I know of that allows you to walk on the grass (while being childish voyeurs),
  • tasting some lovely beer back in the city center (Pasteur Street Brewing Co),
  • lounging/drinking/eating/chatting with a previously undiscovered collection of Italians in the neighbourhood and
  • sleeping diagonal-starfish-style on a bed to myself.

Sure, I miss Oli (who’s away visiting family) but it’s also been nice visiting the rest of the world again. A girl easily falls away from it all when there’s someone around with whom she can comfortably be an antisocial hermit.



Ugh, people are such dramatic creatures. We should all embrace more calm.

In unrelated news,

1. McDonald’s opened in Vietnam. There were flashy lights, a two-hour long queue, and a scantily clad DJ. How lush.


2. Jacklyn and I opened and decanted a lovely bottle of Spanish wine with her fancy new tools while her cat said, “Wtf?” Julien has since informed me that you should never decant wine by just dumping it into a container. According to French sensibilities, the instructions on the box were wrong.


3. Ollie and I sent Vinh off on a 16 hour trip to the UK, (with a few flight-glazing drinks), to eat lots of Stilton and, more importantly, become a brand new father of, what will surely be, an adorable but crazy wee girl.