So Dorcas springs on us this week the news that she is headed for Perth (a.k.a. Out. Of. Hell.) for her Masters in Ed. Psych, and is leaving "soon" (a.k.a. the 24th), which prompts a flurry of preparation for a goodbye party that really isn't much of one, unless you consider Canadian 2-in-1 Pizza, Bacardi and Coke, and Desperate Housewives an appropriate farewell-bidding combination. It's at Louise's place with Eekia, choir Adeline, and HCJC Debbie (who I barely know), and the apartment, though old, manages to squeak into the category of cosy. It has other plus points - overlooking Holland V's Coffee Club being one of them - but I digress. Dorcas. Is leaving - and not a moment too soon, I suppose, 2 years being about the outer limits of the amount of time one can tolerate in this damn country without beginning to pull ones hair out by the roots. I'm glad that all of this fell into place for her - partly because her situation is one that I hope ends up being pleasingly symmetrical to mine - but also because she really deserves to be happy, and it's nice that someone in this whole lousy mess is getting their due.

Other stories: Louise is angling to get out of JTC to join a company that will pay her to spend a month in Italy indulging in haute couture and Bacchanal. Eekia is teaching music to Sec 1s in Montfort Secondary School using the medium of film. Production of Arrested Development is being shut down this season to make way for American Dad, and people need to write to Gail Berman to tell him what an idiot* he is.

And I spent most of the afternoon staring at my handphone wondering why it was resolutely not ringing.

*This blog, I think, suffers significantly from the fact that I strain not to curse on it. I will rethink this policy.