Crave

"Tell me, is the rose naked, or is that her only dress?" -- Pablo Neruda

You know how in the middle of the night, you sometimes get cravings for KFC or Krispy Kremes or chili crab? You don't? Hmm. Okay, maybe it's just me.

Anyway, this whole week, I've been just craving for a break. An entire day to myself, and no one else. Just to stone. Close the shop. Take stock.

The past couple of days have been a fun but frenzied time in our newsrooom, coz we are covering a biggish corporate scandal involving a dodgy mainland Chinese mastermind.

Does anyone know what "insider trading" is called in Mandarin? Well, neither do I. Which was a tad inconvenient coz I had to interview the dodgy commies in Beijing and what literal translations of "insider trading" my workmates and I could throw up sounded damn obscene, if you ask me.

Anyway, the frenzy has died, and it was good while it lasted. Not good for the poor buggers who put in money and got screwed, but good for bored journos trying to get out of schmoozing dos. Oh yes, now we are getting invites left, right and centre for year-end parties.... which are just business lunches in another guise.

Oh good news, my ex room-mate Ash is coming back next week. A thoroughly wicked funster who can be relied upon for a drink, a light, and to root for opposing rugby sides as me. Takes one to know one, eh, girl?