The plan was merely to check out Philia Lounge for their 2nd year anniversary party. And to, maybe, raid the open bar. Upon arrival, however, my appetite for drinks deserted me and I was instead awed by the exquisite decor. Lush Nahc seats, strewn in a somewhat random, mismatched way elegantly complemented the contemporary art donned walls. Loved it.
Later that night, it was..
the ever exclusive Dragon-i;
club on the 29th with an amazing view of the city, Azure;
Fong, the usual;
and of course, McD's for their oh-so-delectable McWings. Those things will be the death of me.
And yet, work remains an incessant reminder that life is not always about painting the town red with the girls.
Sunday was then spent on derivatives, micro theory and a bit of international finance.
. . . . .
I was kept up all night by Paulo Coelho's Eleven Minutes, an enticing story about a Brazilian prostitute. Here's an excerpt.
"When we meet someone and fall in love, we have a sense that the whole universe is on our side. I saw this happen today as the sun went down. And yet if something goes wrong, there is nothing left. No herons, no distant music, not even the taste of his lips. How is it possible for the beauty that was there only minutes before to vanish to quickly?
Life moves very fast. It rushes us from heaven to hell in a matter of seconds."
- Maria
Beautiful.
I finally made myself put it down at 5 am.
.
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