18th Birthday

And so it has come to pass that I proceed from the tender teenage years of yesterday and become a man. As if I wasn't manly enough already. Anyway, I have turned 18. It's pretty good so far. Also, I didn't really take any pictures, so this is going to be a text-only post.

For my 18th birthday, my Aunt Sheryl and Uncle Paul took me to the Altitude Bar. It gets it's name because it takes up the 63rd and 64th floors of what seems to be the tallest building in Singapore. I say "seems" because when looking at other buildings from the top floor, it seems to be the tallest, but I don't know that for a fact.

So, after taking the private club elevator to get to the 63rd floor, we were let into the dining area and were seated at our reserved seats. I guess this place is in pretty high demand, because there are two seatings, and we, being in the first one, had to be out of there by 8:30 in order to make way for the next wave of patrons.

I must say, the food was very good (I tried liver!), but the choosing of said food was complicated by the fact that the menu, in keeping with the style of all fancy restaurants, was crammed with long Italian words and references to vegetables I never knew existed. After appetizers, I ordered a simple steak, that was accompanied by potatoes, a strange salsa sauce, and snail salad.

After dinner (and a darn rich chocolate cake thingy), we migrated one floor up, to the more clubby part of the joint. There wasn't a roof, and the only thing preventing one from falling off the building was a four foot high inch-thick piece of plastic that lined the walking area. We collectively drank some stuff, talked about nothing important, and failed to take decent pictures of each other. I had a very good time, and we left after the bassy dance music had become so loud it was difficult to hear what each other was saying.