Here I am, blogging from a PappaRich branch and waiting for Mama Carrie to be done with whatever she has to do. Can you believe it? A boy of about five kept peeping at my computer screen, trying to figure out what the big sister is doing. =.="
I don't want to eavesdrop, but the diners around me are talking louder than they should. I'm also being surrounded by cigarette smoke - something that I don't like - and the smell of toasted bread.
As much as I dislike it, a working trip down south is waiting for me. I don't know about you, but Port Dickson has never been my favorite place to go to unless necessary. First, I have no acquaintances living there and second, there is no large shopping malls that the Carries are willing to send me to kill the time.
What about the beach, you may ask.
The Carries have mentioned a couple of times that the sandy white beach that Port Dickson has been known for has replaced by brown sand. Of course, it can't be that bad. But it can never beat Mission Bay. Not in a million years.
And the beach is never my favorite place to go to unless someone - usually a friend - has extended an invitation.
Sigh, it is almost time for me to stop writing. Conversations, I still can deal with but not cigarette smoke.
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