They all seemed to work for large law firms that paid huge salaries and unbelievable bonuses, or they were on their way to specialising in plastic surgery or gynaecology. They talked about holidays in Jamaica, their new Volkswagon Golf Cabriolets, and plans for the future.
Amazing. And there I was, not even able to plan on buying a tyre fore a Golf.
There was this cute guy, Jun Hao, sitting next to me. I kept bumping into him on and off for a couple of years. He always seemed to have everything going for him.
A sales engineer, he has a keen eye for good stocks, and is director of three small companies he set up as an undergrad. He has high cheekbones, a great personality and a megawatt smile.
In fact, so good-looking and charming is he that when he went to a party in Hongkong years ago, a tai-tai invited him for breakfast the next morning and offered him an apartment, her car keys and an endless supply of clothes by Armani, or whichever designer he fancied.
Jun Hao, who was then 19, turned it down.
Now, he is 25, still good-looking, ambitious, and on his way to being extremely successful.
But he says he is not entirely happy. "I have zero social life and get very little sleep. Relationships? No way," he said.
He has been planning his career since he was 15. "I'm hoping my companies will be listed in 10 to 15 years' time. I'm a great believer in planning. I plan stuff all the time. If you don't, you won't be able to react when situations change."
Now was not the time, apparently, for distractions -- such as us women.
Sitting next to us was a 28-year-old doctor who has also mapped out his life -- since the mere age of 16. Currently a general practitioner sharing a clinic with a friend, working from 9 am to 10.30 pm, he said he already knows what he wants.
By 30, he wants to be married. By 32, he wants a piece of property, next to an MRT station so the family can get by with only one car. By 33, he wants two children. In his 40s, he will look into investment property, so his children will have a place to live.
And where on earth was I -- other than being surrounded by hoards of mega-successful young adults sipping vodka-laced punch by the pool?
The day after New Year, I headed for the beach early in the morning, thinking maybe it was time for me to redo my five- and 10-year-plans.
The first time I did it was about 18 years old, and the road seemed clear enough -- get a degree, work like crazy, get promoted, and be fairly wealthy by, well, 35 or so.
Oh year, and because journalism is not exactly known for creating masses of wealthy individuals, I though I would do that for a year or two, then get a real job.
Along the way, I would settle down, marry a doctor/lawyer/engineer like some older relatives have been telling me to do, and then I would have two kids by about uh ... now.
That way, at Lunar New Year, I would not have to cringe under the scrutiny of relatives when they did their usual comparisons and evaluations.
Of course, that grand plan never happened. I got sucked into journalism and never left. I actually enjoyed the job, too.
And marriage? Kids? Uh, aren't those words in some foreign language dictionary? Wealth? Definitely vocabulary from the X-Files.
In between all the plans, there were other things I had written in my "to do" list: lose weight, learn to scuba dive, ride a motorbike, learn French, do volunteer work, write a book, beat my pool shark ex-boyfriend at pool -- some I have done, some I have not.
But still, life has not gone according to that grand plan I set out for myself at 18.
So what went wrong? What happened to the superwoman/supermum I wanted to become? Maybe if I had had a more water-tight plan, everything would have worked out. I kept wondering if I had failed and should change course and go back to a more conventional definition of success.
Later, at a pub near the office, I was with a couple of friends, evaluating our lives over wine, frozen margaritas and beer. Ever tried to find out the meaning of life shouting over The Cure's Love Cats and Duran Duran's Wild Boys?
Trust me, it does not work. Eighties music was not designed to get you all serious and philosophical -- unless you were into the existential analysis of why Princess Di did not marry Simon Le Bon or Nick Rhodes and lead a pop life instead of choosing to become royalty.
"Actually, I never planned to have my kid," said Alice, who became a mother at 21. Beside her, her husband snuggled closer.
"I'm kind of glad I got thrust into this motherhood thing, so now I've got it out of the way and found out it wasn't as scary as I thought. I'd like my second kid within five years."
At 24, she adores her husband and three-year-old son, loves her job and, despite having to take a year off from university to look after her son, is happy that things had not gone quite as planned.
"The thing is -- whatever happens, you cope," she said.
Now, she makes general plans, goals that do not trap her in other people's rigid definition of success.
And sometimes things work out better than planned. Sometimes you find things you never knew existed.
Three New Years ago, in San Francisco, I was visiting friends and had stayed over at a friend of a friend's parents' place after a New Year's Eve party and had to find my way back to the suburbs early in the morning.
My friend Patti gave me vague directions to the bus stop somewhere at the bottom of the hill which would take me to the train station.
Somehow, I ended up in the financial district which, at 7 am on New Year's Day, was about as lively as Raffles Place on a Sunday morning.
The roads were empty, the morning was cold, and I kept wishing I had made Patti draw me an extremely detailed map. I was scared, lost in a graveyard of tall builidings and empty roads, hungry and afraid I would spend the whole day going round in circles.
Finally, I looked for a building that was vaguely familiar and headed for what I thought was the pier, to find my bearings, and found the bus station.
And suddenly, starting the New Year wandering the streets of San Francisco, with no clear directions, felt terrific. I had the whole world to myself and every corner was a surprise and a discovery.
Nine months after that, I would stay near the financial district in San Francisco for a whole month, getting to know the roads there really well.
But that New Year's morning, I was scared being by myself, though I would do it again now. Only, now that I know the route so well, it would not be half as fun or exciting.