Bacio Grande

Everyone in Bocconi is crazy. No actually, this comment extends only to SMU students on exchange there. (See, I spared Kiat!)

Or maybe it really IS something about the school that makes you go nutso. Something they add into the crappy cabonara they sell in the canteen? Or in the compulsory macchiatos they drink everyday? I mean, this is their wet-floor caution sign afterall... Hiak!

'Mmkay. Behind behind, get in the line.

By default, anyone who visits Milan and is hosted by this brady bunch of looneys will start act like something's not quite right up there. Like for like.

There's the strange girl who revs up her speech with 'Awe-SOME!' Emphasis and pitch, y'all. Oh Dee I love you even though not everything you exalt to be 'Damn cool, damn cool, damn cool!' is all that fabulous.

Sizzling Dee, just sizzling!

And I also love you Dee, because you braved the horrific encounter of the wrinkled old Italian stallion anatomy show with me.

And this is Mir; she owns the most formidable chest this side of town. She allowed Jie and I to cook her boyfriend in a pot of curry on his birthday card, which is just about the coolest thing a girlfriend can do for her significant other, right? Me likey Mir.

Mir and Steph; who now own Ferragamo shoes. And Celest; who now owns a pair of brown H&M slippers. Retailing at 4.90E.

On the second-last of my crazy nights there, we couldn't stop talking about boobies (I think it was sparked off by some jealousy at Mir's well-endowed chest compared to the barely-theres the rest of us plebeians possess). As Jie illustrates,

Though I don't know why her hand continues to be there even after the picture was taken.

A shout-out to my breast friends in Singapore. Sue and Dawn, remember the yank-and-pull?

-

Don't know why I only have one decent shot with the one person who held the make-or-break position for my Milan trip, and she MADE it quite possibly the best time I ever had in Italy.

Ode to Loh Jieying, my cushy-tush fellow domestic goddess: Oh! How I adore thee. Oh! How I miss thee. (And the brown Bottega which will never be mine)

Bacio grande.

Back

Bus. Walk. Plane. Bus. Train. Train. Bus. Walk.

And I'm back on Belgian soil. Updates later once I ice my screaming toes and stretch my sore back comfortably.



I miss Jie :(