Chip 'n' Clarkson

My best buddy turned 13 today. That makes 13 years that he's been a part of our lives, since he came home, a tiny bundle of hot fur and paw pads. I sang him a birthday song, but our friend didn’t look too impressed.

For some reason, despite his advanced age, buggy is as squirmy and hyperactive as ever. I had to chase him round the couch and out from under the bed before he would pose nicely for me on my fazzer's rocking chair.

Kelly Clarkson was a fun gig. Also, it was hilarious because of the number of strange and wacky things that happened. Mel, her husband, Jason, and I were several rows from the front when the concert started, but ended up inching our way right to the front so that the only things between Kelly and us were the security guard and the barrier. I could see the subtle pink sweep of eyeshadow on her skin.

Her voice was amazing, strong and effortless, clear and raspy by turn. However, homegirl has a habit of wearing things that are not terribly flattering to her figure and this was no exception - Jason remarked that her brown top looked like it came out of Whampoa market. She finally only changed her top for the encore.

Also, the girl next to me was a few fries short of a happy meal. She sang in the most oddly discordant, yet powerful falsetto and was determined to sing every single word and run in every single song at top volume, which, impressively, was louder than the speakers from where I was standing.

When she hit a wailing run at the climax of Because of You, my blood swiftly curdled. In between singing, she was whistling so piercingly that she gave me tinnitus.

Her friends also insisted, perhaps drunkenly, on climbing on each other's shoulders to wave at Kelly. Apparently, according to Jason, a skinny girl tried to pick a plumper one up first and when she could only raise one leg, they decided to swap places.

As the girl was being hoisted upwards, the security guard tried to stop them but ended up having to support the girl on top with one hand so she didn't fall backwards on us. At some point, she did actually fall, and he exasperatedly held her back up as she dangled dangerously over our heads. And I don't think Kelly saw them at all.

Pink Dress - Tangs. Cutout heels - Dr Martens.

Rings - Diva ; Melbourne flea market. Necklace - Swarovski.

Jamie "Quality Work" Ee took these pictures of me on our gorgeous office rooftop and while I love her pictures, I have to say it's as if I'm working on America's Next Top Model.

"Stop looking so demonic!" She yelled at me, as I tried not to feel stupid in the shade. "Stop having such weird hair!"

"I can't help it," I protested as she exasperatedly pulled and prodded at my hair. "That's as good as it's going to get, Mie."

"Stand on your toes so your legs don't look so stumpy. You really need to work on your posing," she retorted clicking away.

And then today, she waved her hands dramatically at me over the partition between our desks and proclaimed: "I will make you a star!"

I felt a little frightened, but nodded obediently because you don't mess with the Quality Work.

As an aside, I went for a walk at Marina Bay for an assignment today and while it was sweltering, I was delighted to see that on the newly opened Helix Bridge, the floor had little lighted windows with A-T and C-G in them, for Adenine, Thymine and so on. Hurray for secular Singapore!

Kevin, the real photographer, who insisted in skipping in and out of my shots repeatedly. I teased him when we saw pedestrians with cameras and lenses as big as his, saying, “Oh wow, such big equipment.”

Unfazed, he pointed to his convex extra wide angle lens and said: “I have a rounder head and thicker shaft.” I suppose I asked for it.

Finally, I leave you with this advertisement for some supposedly delightful Osim product: the uMama Warm, to which Dhany promptly replied, "Yo Mama's warm, too."

Oh, boys.