00:45.

It hailed three times yesterday, the last episode not two hours ago. Yesterday was the coldest day summer had, I reckon. I was in three layers when I went out for dinner - weather website said it was 13 degrees then and apparently 8 degrees feeling like 4 degrees now - and feeling like a wrapped up dumpling again was inconsequential in return for the warmth.

The first time it hailed, I stuck my hand out of the window like a kid and was thrilled to see the little icicles collect in my hands. And when it hailed again the last two times, I stood at the living room balcony door and stared in awe at the sheets of rain and howling wind going whrrr. Lamp posts shook and cars looked like they could be lifted off sideways. I was glad I was indoors and glad for the sight before me.

The last few days seemed to have ran away, escaped from me, blurred into a medley I can't quite distinct without some effort.

Christmas Eve was spent on church, dinner and a nice drive out to The Boulevard, a posh stretch where residents go all out with the Christmas decor to win a year's supply of electricity. As in, all out. Big houses with major decor and lights. Very pretty. Every decorated house seemed like a storybook.

Christmas was church, hung out at a friend's and learnt Bridge as we waited to go to lunch, lunch, a jam session at my house (heh, the bass and electric guitar - albeit with a snapped string - are at my place now), then went to Caulfield for a combined OCF dinner and a walkaround the neighbourhood carolling.

That was the first time in my life I carolled. And I did enjoy it. Remembering the significance of Christmas, walking in crisp cold air with friends and spiritual siblings, and a licence to sing aloud.

Then, Boxing Day was church, lunch, checking out the famed Boxing Day sales and shopping, hanging out at a friend's place and reading the newest issue of 8 Days and going "what?? so-and-so is now at 8 Days??!", then dinner at Blok M, a great Indonesian restaurant.

Yesterday, I lazed about, journal-led, chilled and went out for a Greek dinner.

As I get older, I learn the great importance of good conversation and being silent.

I have a feeling this would be a lesson that would continue.

For now, I need to crash. My glorious futon awaits.