I’m still no clearer on the repat or not situation, I’m afraid, and although it has been getting me down immeasurably, I have nonetheless-so been able to have some serioso fun this week.

On Wednesday I went to the meet and greet with Charli XCX at TopShop. She was so sweet. Just a regular girl called Charlotte, from Cambridge (but that’s London Queen enough for me! That’s one of her songs, babeses). She told me she loved my sunglasses, and the radio chick who was hosting asked if my hair was natural. Charli was totes a pro, but it really highlighted for me how hard it is to be a celebrité. I face that kinda stuff myself, when lovelies ask for pix with me, and you know, sometimes it’s not that easy to be in receipt of all that adulation. I make it look easy, of course, but I’m so starting to realise that underneath every star there’s actually a real person, just trying to make their way in the world, being fabulous.

Charli XCX saying she loved my sunglasses (she’s the one in the orange top, Eva my new PT is in the middle  & I’m the one in the gold jumpsuit)

Me with the radio chick

Then that night I went to the concert with my Expaterati girlies, including my new personal trainer/ body guard, Eva, and the fab hottie who won my contest to attend. She won because her answer to why it should be her was, “Because I think you’re awesome, babe!!!!”, so that was a non-brainer. We all had the best time eveerrrrr, and danced our behinds off, looking amazebobs. You could tell we made a mahusiv impression because we stood in the middle of the venue, and other people left a big space between us and them. I have to say, I totes heart the Coliseum at the Hard Rock Hotel. It’s intimate, it’s outdoors but under cover, the staff are fab, there’s lots of room to dance, and best of all, no lines at the bars!! Don’t tell anyone about it though because I feel like it’s sort of my venue, and I wouldn’t want it to get booked out next time I’m after tickets.

I also TOTES heart this app called Songkick, which syncs with your iTunes library and tells you when concerts are on. No, I’m not being paid by these people, dear readers. I’m just a really generous person who likes to share great stuff with loved ones. It’s ok, don’t thank me : )

And here are some awesome hot pics of me at the concert:

Hot me 1

Hot me 2

Hot me 3

Hot me 4

So it was a great night, and yesterday I did NOT feel like working out, when I awoke to find Eva standing at the foot of the bed, firing at my face with a water gun (the help let her in, argh!!). Damn, Eva’s good. I’m lucky to have found her. Unfortunately I have had to part company with the Hyatt gym. They just kept on giving me locker key number 69, and frankly it got too much. I can’t bear locker-based innuendo, you know?

Me & Eva at the concert

After a gruelling workout, a power brunch, and a long nap, I was glad that Eva had gunned me out of my slumber. I had such a glow about me later, as I sashayed along Orchard Road to do some shoppage. I took my lovely designer trolley with me because I wanted to go to Ambercrombie, so I needed to bring my heavy spelunking gear. Trolleys used to be mummsy, but if you still think that, where have you been?! You’re nobody in Singas if you don’t have a trolley.

Trolleys = hotness

As I passed the Paragon, a fine ang mo gentleman, who must’ve been at least 70 (but had a full head of sandy blonde hair, and was a dead ringer for Robert Redford), sidled up beside me and complimented me on my trolley. As I am always friendly to strangers, I indulged his apparent desire for a little small talk, entering into conversation. I just love older people. They’re so nice.

I asked him if he lived here, and upon confirmation, I questioned whether he had a trolley. He responded, “No, I have my backpack. And I have great muscles. Do you want to try me out?”

I was a tad taken aback, and for a moment I wondered if he was offering to carry me to Abercrombie. When he winked, it clicked that this was probably not what he was offering, so I said, “Oh old babe, that’s like totes lovely, but no thanks”, and then grabbed my phone, pretending it had rung.

“Sooooooo soz, nice old man who is so nice, but I’ve got to take this call. It’s the help”, I told him, and gave him the final honour of my beautiful Kate Middleton smile.

I get propositioned all the time, naturally, but this was the first occasion where the propositioner was of such an advanced age, and therefore so very wise. It just goes to show that a good workout will bring all the boys to the yard.

O

EM

GEE