I Should Blog About My Fat Cat..

But I'm Not Gonna. Life has been good these days. Changes at work in the next month. Family update- my youngest sister has reached her legal age. I promised to scoop her away for a nice vacation. With all the clashing schedules, it's still up in the air. Hopefully I can find something for all of us soon. Friends update- lots of wedding bells and babies coming. Love update- it's been nothing but smiles. Oh and hobbes, he's getting fat like Garfield.

While flipping through channels the other day, I came across the documentary called "Born into Brothels". I think it gave me a wake up call on how lucky I have it or everyone has it here. When you've got generation after generation of prosititution, and you have an 8 year old telling you that her life was predetermined to exist in this way - its depressing, but alarming.I will grasp onto the miniscule hope that the photographer's efforts in guiding those girls and boys will shed a little light in their eyes.

On another note, Antony Gromley's exhibition has caught my eye. 27 statues standing on roof tops are expected to “to play with the city and people’s perceptions,” according to him. My count so far - two.

Being the lego fan that I am, I am definitely going to see Nathan Sawaya's lego exhibit. My parents gave me my first lego set when I was 5. I remember building houses that drew resemblances to ones on the box. Ok, i lied. I made houses that were identical to the cover of the box. Oh how i cherished the time spent when we were young. The agendas during that time were 1. build lego house 2. take apart lego house. 3. build lego house 1.2. Now when I look back, I wondered why I never had the urge to become an architect..Oh..i remember now..barbie came into play. Damn you barbie and your pretty dresses and shoes.