Though, on principle, I don't give a rat's arse about speed or car racing, I was suitably proud of Singapore for hosting the world's! first! night! race!. Typical, typical; but still, I wouldn't expect any less: c'mon, it's Singapore we're discussing here. One-upping the Joneses as always. With a smile. Hell, with five million smiles amidst a commensurately large amount of greenhouse gas emissions and electricity usage; I was blinded on the way to Suntec the other night. And did I mention, a lot, a lot of noise pollution.

My interest in sports - especially noisy ones that involve speed and high levels of testosterone - can be described, at best, as lukewarm. R was, on the other hand, glued to the screen the whole time I was nursing my high pitched engine-induced headache.

The kitten worked itself into a yarnball-chasing frenzy fuelled (un)helpfully by the incessant screeching of engines. The kitten - Mine! - has been the bright spark in our lives for the past week now. Dill is the softest and mostly pliant little thing, and I owe last week's worth of dinners at home to him.



We do stuff together, me and Dill. This is going to be the start of a beautiful relationship, I hope, I think, I know. He's going to be so spoilt yet so lovable.