Ramen respite.

Ramen respite.


picture from here

It's the first day of a craaaaazzzy week with a pile of project work waiting to be settled. Juggling exams and FYP really ain't easy - not so much with time management but with mental compartmentalization - but we can't say our seniors didn't warn us. I guess I didn't expect just how much energy a project can actually require, but it seems like we're on track for now so I'm thankful for that.

My last paper of the semester, and my second last paper of my school life (I hope!) is scheduled for Wednesday, but the eight-day break between my papers has made me all jittery and I keep having nightmares about completely missing the paper. Silly, I know.

Anyway, we took a short respite from the gloomy Monday with The Ramen Girl on dvd. I've come to expect little of movies fronted by Brittany Murphy, but this was actually quite enjoyable, possibly because it's about food. The Aussie grad trip is in the works, but I may just snap up those Tokyo tickets if they're ever on sale and pay Ran and those ramen shops a visit.

Slurp.

Savoring Saturday.

Savoring Saturday.

"There's nothing like a cool autumn breeze, sending the past up with the leaves.
Watching all the clothes on the line in a sidestepping dance with the neighboring trees."

I can't think of a better soundtrack to my easy breezy Saturday than Bic Runga's A Day Like Today. And it's incredibly catchy.

I never realized how enjoyable walking could be until last year, where I probably covered over 100km on foot in Paris and Rome. We may have neither the nicely-cool weather nor that many cobbled paths, but Singapore is actually a very walkable city. Your feet can take you places, as long as they're not trapped within 4-inch heels.

I like how I can plug in my iPod and how my stride goes on autopilot once my thoughts start wandering. I had Rachael Yamagata for company on this afternoon's walk up Mount Faber, and I took a couple more minutes at the peak looking out to sea and enjoying the cool breeze on my sun-warmed skin. Life's always good when savoring such simple pleasures.

A shower and I was out for dinner and a movie with E. Confessions of a Shopaholic lived up to my fluffy expectations, and more. I'm a fan of the book series and watching Isla Fisher live out Becky Bloomwood's antics had me in stitches. It's a light-hearted and trashy feel-good sort of movie - right up my alley!


picture from http://www.nitrolicious.com

It's amost 3am and I'm nowhere near sleep. Looks like the iced mocha and Tippy Darjeeling tea have yet to cease their caffeine magic.

For one night only.

For one night only.

The dash across the road in the rain had my pant bottoms soaked, but all discomfort was forgotten when I settled down to watch Slumdog Milionaire. I tend to think award sweeping movies are heavy and seldom my cup of tea, but the self-claimed "feel-good movie of the year" did make me want to get up and join the actors in shaking to the Bollywood beats at the end.

It's been over nine months since my return from India, but familiar scenes and phrases from the movie transported me right back to the chaos of the jammed streets, the stifling heat of Mumbai, and the wintry cool of the Ahmedabad nights.

Watching Salim seal a bottle of tap water to pass it off as a new bottle of mineral water made me think of the time we had dinner with our dean who insisted that the bottle be opened at the table. Watching Jamal serving chai made me think of the classes we attended at MICA, and the boy from MiCafe who often brought the drink to the lecturers. Seeing the grown-up Salim reminded me of Rishit, and the night I hung out with the guys at Champa until the sun rose. And watching them dance at the end made me think of the MICA alumni party where I boogied the night away with people I barely knew. (On hindsight, I don't know where I got the guts!)

And in the darkened cinema, I wished for this one night to be back in the isolated MICA campus, drinking chai under the huge tree at Chotta or in the easy company and cigarette swirls of the guys in the Champa courtyard.

Friendship and (in)sanity.

Friendship and (in)sanity.

It's been a pretty slow week at the office. The lazy atmosphere's probably because those who actually came to work were semi-comatose from way too much bak kwa and pineapple tarts. Marc dropped by on Friday, and we caught up over lunch at the army market food centre. Here's an excerpt from our post-lunch smsing.

Me: 3 more hours till knockoff. Stab me.
Marc: /stab
Me: /collapse
Marc: /celebrate

I thought that was kinda funny, haha.

The babes and I caught up with Flora over lunch today, and it turned out to be a farewell meal as well as she's off to Beijing on Monday. I'm pretty sure she'll be back and our internships would be over in a blink of an eye. Time flies indeed.

Then it was off for a chick flick fix with Ran.


picture from www.icelebz.com

I'd expected Bride Wars to be a brainless comedy, and though the storyline predictably offered no momentous afterthought or enlightenment, it was unpredictably real and touching. It made me wonder who would be the one girlfriend I had to have there beside me on my big day.

I used to have more guy friends then female ones, but that seems to be changing these days. I see my girlfriends a lot more often, and I've gotten closer to several whom I've unintentionally kept at arm's length. I have to admit that my mind was momentarily blank when the credits started rolling after a snapshot of the two best friends-turned enemies-turned best friends.

But of course there are the few who are always that bit closer to my heart, though I think I would be torn if I had to choose between Mich and Ceci. Mich's been there since forever and we've seen each other through our best and our worst. Ceci too has become so near and dear over recent years, and having endured my many fashion crises, would be the perfect voice of logic when I am torn between 99 wedding gowns. (Incidentally, both were there to talk me through my 35.5kg India predeparture luggage haha!) Maybe I can make them both bridesmaids together with Jane, Lanxi and Jinli (anything to see you wear a dress darling) and get Erwin to be my maid-of-honor hahaha!

I am sure getting ahead of myself. ;)

Ocean calling.

Ocean calling.



Yesterday's buffet lunch at Suki Sushi has officially quenched my insatiable sushi and sashimi cravings. I don't think I can stomach another slice of raw fish for awhile; until it's time to toss the yu sheng perhaps? On hindsight, a breakfast of three pineapple tarts and nothing else wasn't the smartest thing to have before a buffet consisting of mostly raw fish. I could almost feel their sliced up souls swimming around in my stomach while Ran and I took a post-lunch walk before settling down for another two hours in the cinema for The Women.


movie poster from movies.yahoo.com

I had mixed expectations about the film, especially when its synopsis likened it to Sex and the City. There can only be one SATC in my opinion, and any movie that claims to be similar would inevitably pale in comparison. It's like watching another sitcom starring six friends which likens itself to F.R.I.E.N.D.S., or eating a diet chocolate bar which claims to taste just like the real thing (yeah right, more like its cardboard packaging maybe).

The Women however was surprisingly good and nothing like a SATC knockoff, apart from the starting scene of designer shoes (which is more Lipstick Jungle than SATC really) and its focus on female friendships. I thoroughly enjoyed it, and so did my fellow cinema-goers judging from the constant chuckles, though I can't quite fathom why I found it so difficult to keep my eyes open halfway through the movie. It took the audience's loud laughter at a hilarious punchline and a lot of will power before I settled myself upright and awake again. All I missed was Meg Ryan's transformation from downtrodden betrayed to up-and-coming fashion designer.

The weekends pass awfully quickly now that I'm working. My undergrad timetable used to allow me at least one weekday afternoon to myself, but the only me-time I get on weekdays now is split between workouts (in order to maintain a semblance of a non-sedentary lifestyle) and dinner dates. My three nights out this week (Shokudo dinner with the uni babes on Tuesday, Mcdonald's and gossip with my poly threesome on Wednesday, and Cedele and more gossip with the Alphabets on Friday) made getting out of bed in the mornings and the post-lunch slumps harder than usual. I'm not complaining though. The tight schedule's made me more appreciative of the weekends, and I procrastinate a tad less than when my time was not governed by a 9 to 6:30 job.

I do miss having a morning lie-in though. My alarm clock still goes off during the weekends now that I give piano lessons on Saturday and Sunday mornings. I've fostered a bond with my three students that it feels like a mini catch-up of sorts more than a music lesson, so that takes the edge off my morning calls. Early mornings are also really a small price to pay for travel money. (Yes that's how I get the moolah to fund my jaunts around the globe. It's the more glamorous and better-paying alternative to waitressing in a Parisian bar to buy a ticket home.)

That said, I am going to put the above-mentioned paragraph on procrastinating less to the test by logging off for a spot of spring-cleaning.

The missing ingredient.

The missing ingredient.


poster from www.screeninglog.com

After months of chick flick drought, Ceci and I caught Vicky Cristina Barcelona last night, amidst a predominantly male audience. It was a tad odd, but we left it at the conclusion that they were either Woody Allen or Scarlett Johansson fans. The movie, though less cliche than the usual fare, was disappointingly bland as compared to previous Allen-Johansson pairings like Match Point and Scoop. At least to me.

The subject in Vicky Cristina Barcelona was love, a concept tackled and mishandled way too often in films. In this somewhat indie offering, Allen sought to explore the inexplicable and tricky subject, but offered no answers at the end of the movie, except for one poignant statement that replayed itself over and over in my head on the bus ride home.

Juan Antonio's psycho ex-wife, Maria Elena, told Cristina (Scarlett Johansson) that their marriage was perfect except for "the missing ingredient". The ingredient turned out to be Cristina, who became part of the tangled threesome, but I thought that the concept of "the missing ingredient" was quite applicable in non-threesome relationships as well.

A seemingly perfect love affair can combust. Quietly, suddenly, or over prolonged periods of hurt. It leaves nothing behind but the ebbing sparks and a sense of inexplicable loss, while the lovers contemplate what had exactly gone wrong.

A movie that answers a question with yet more questions. How about that.

In Matcha lies the cure.

In Matcha lies the cure.

The realization of a 1500-word organizational communication essay rounds off my term break to-do list to a perfect 10. Between dates, project meetings and my beach routine, I've ridden on my writing roll over the weekend to churn out my travel writing assignment and an internship cover letter. That leaves me with 8.5 more assignments to tackle over the next seven days.

It is reminiscent of the crazy poly days, and I am oddly enjoying it. It's inexplicable how I feed off being consumed by a piece of writing. It zaps and restores my energy levels all at the same time, and I'm a sucker for this feeling.

The week before term break is almost always deadline haven, so between lessons and Japanese takeout, the babes and I had a bit of a breather mucking around with Erwin's new Woody Allen glasses.





Nothing like a spot of laughter to put things back into perspective.

That night, bitch and I caught up over some late-night frappuccinos at Starbucks.



For a few hours before I had to rush home for a midnight online meeting, I could push most thoughts of work to the back of my mind, and to enjoy my Green Tea Frappe. I've been stuck on the drink ever since Rai introduced it to me several weeks ago.

After errands and two pages of my travelogue, I met B for dinner and to catch Mamma Mia! on Friday.


poster from http://www.flickr.com/photos/divxplanet/2598031284/

I wouldn't have taken the "feel-good movie event of the year" phrase on the poster seriously if I hadn't seen the movie for myself. Despite the umpteen cheesy moments, the catchy tunes had the audience singing along, and clapping when the credits rolled. It was an unlikely movie-going experience.



"Are Singaporeans always like this in cinemas?" a clearly surprised B whispered sometime through the show. I wish!

After a semi-grueling Saturday morning meeting and a cholesterol-laden Carls' Jr lunch, I headed home for more travel writing and an energizing cat nap, before meeting a bunch of CS peeps for "cultural immersion" at Geylang Serai. Zak was our friendly tour guide of the day, and the most inspiring moment of the evening would have to be watching a whole kopitiam of Muslims breaking fast together.

I don't know if it was the lack of sleep, but Lanxi and I only managed 2/3 of our usual beach route, before calling it a day and heading back to the city for our sushi lunch. And a scoop of ice-cream, green tea flavor for me. If anything, at least I had substantial doses of antioxidants over the past few days to last me through the pile of work that awaits.

Flop.

Honeysuckle in the after-rain.

Honeysuckle in the after-rain.





We braved the heavy afternoon rains to buy the necessary picnic food, and our optimism was finally rewarded with weak evening sunshine and the palest of rainbows. Yet, outdoor movie night was far from the great event we had envisioned.

For starters, the organizers had us (and at least 200 people ahead of us in the queue and maybe 400 behind) waiting at the door while they did whatever last-minute preparations they should have done.

And when the first movie finally did start at an hour later than the stipulated time, the crappy sound system had us furrowing our brows and straining to hear the dialogue, not that it would have mattered for the storyline was weak, and we counted at least 20 cliches in that one movie. Make it Happen. Don't bother wasting your money on that one.

The second show, My Sassy Girl, was way better, but the sound system was still equally crappy. The air was cool, the stars were out and there were couples snuggling up all around. Perfect ambience for a chick flick, except that we couldn't bloody hear what Elisha Cuthbert and Jesse Bradford were saying half the time!

I'm never going for a GV outdoor movie screening, not for the next few years at least.

All gripes aside, the night was not all that bad. We had one heck of a picnic - Dorito chips, French Onion dip, brown bread, beef pastrami, herb ham, fresh strawberries, chocolate profiteroles, and the strawberry muffins I baked in the morning. And then there was the complimentary popcorn. Oooof. I think I've eaten enough to fuel my beach run with Lanxi tomorrow, and maybe three more after. Haha.

And as Jem said, he wouldn't have minded paying the S$20 entrance ticket just to lay down on the grass and watch the stars. It really was a gorgeous night, really. No regrets.

The revival of the romantic comedy.

The revival of the romantic comedy.



It's been awhile since I last saw a romantic comedy that bowled me away and actually made me tear and ache with all its sappy moments. This was one hell of a mushy flick without the cheesiness that seems to accompany many of its counterparts.

Best friends falling in love.
Michelle Monaghan and Patrick Dempsey.
Awesome soundtrack.
Almost credible storyline.

I'm sold. Thanks babe for taking me to the premiere!

If you were a kiss I know I'd be a hug.

If you were a kiss I know I'd be a hug.


picture from http://www.inmagine.com

I'd put off watching Juno for the longest time, despite Erwin's constant goading. This may sound silly, but Juno sounds too much like the Japanese horror flick Ju-On for me to associate it with any feel-good effects.

Well, it is a lazy Sunday, my last here in MICA, and I'm quite glad I settled down to watch Juno instead of succumbing to a post-lunch nap. It's beautifully shot, and Juno (that's the lead character) is incredibly endearing despite her smart-mouthed comments. And it's got an awesome soundtrack of catchy tunes and quirky lyrics.

If My Blueberry Nights was a comforting slice of blueberry pie, Juno would be a bowl of cereal and strawberries. Wholesome feel-good sunshine for my Sunday.

It's turning out to be quite a fruitful weekend.

Eden for undiscerning gourmets.

Eden for undiscerning gourmets.


picture from http://skatandthefood.blogspot.com/

After almost four months of waiting, I finally watched My Blueberry Nights today, thanks to Erwin's (how should I put it) technological resourcefulness.

My natural bias toward Norah Jones and therefore the film aside, I think it's one of the nicest shows I've seen in awhile. This could also possibly be because the beautiful yet very credible love story was a refreshing change from the thought-provoking and somewhat depressing films we were fed the past three days in Mathew's class.

In addition to the poignant lines, the film has also left in me a craving for a slice of blueberry pie, served warm and topped with a scoop of vanilla ice cream.

The days leading up to THE day.

The days leading up to THE day.
music: jon mclaughlin - so close

As Shannon just reminded me - I've got 15 days. Come morning it'll be exactly two weeks to my Indian adventure. Thankfully, most of the administrative work has been done, and the only thing left is the inescapable task of packing. For someone who spends four hours ironing and packing for a five-day holiday, I can only imagine how long I'd take to pack for six months.

The jitters have yet to set in, perhaps because I've been busy meeting up with the people whom I care about enough to care that I wouldn't see them for six months. Quite a mouthful.


Saturday day out shopping with CH. We took a long dinner to rest our aching feet, as well as to have a good chat. I don't remember us having such an in-depth chat in the many years we've known each other, and he told me a few things that left me kinda flabbergasted, but what's said at the table stays at the table eh? :)




The yearly tradition of a Christmas movie with Justin and YH, though we kinda lost the Christmas bit the past two years. We watched Fast Food Nation in 2006, and The Golden Compass this year. We had Cedele pancakes before the movie, and headed over to Minds Cafe after where we had a whale of a time playing games like Bluff, Sleeping Queens, Smart Ass, and of course, Scrabble. Heh.


Erwin and I headed back to school yesterday for our three jabs - influenza, typhoid and hepatitis A. My arms are still a little sore today, but I'm thankful I didn't come down with any of the side effects, like fever.


Botak Jones for dinner, and those painted nails aren't mine.


After eons of talking about going to the outlet near our place, ZL and I finally made our pilgrimage last night, after his very successful newspaperman interview.

Two weeks to go, and many more people to meet.

This week
Tomorrow - Lanxi
Friday - Lunch with Shaun, dinner with bitch
Saturday - Jason's mom(?) and beers with Jinli Barbara Tan
Sunday - Movie with Ken and CH

Next week
Monday/Tuesday - Meet-ups with Kar Ern and Shannon?
Wednesday - Family doc for medical supplies
Thursday - Lunch with the babes
Saturday - Fag's chalet
Sunday - CS Christmas dinner

Next next week
Monday - Christmas eve dinner with Spottiswoode gang
Thursday - Departure

I need more time. Lots and lots of it.

Ephemeral restrictions.

Ephemeral restrictions.
feeling: lethargic
music: mika - grace kelly


picture from http://www.ricksmovie.com

A tacky thing to commemorate perhaps, but we were R-21 first timers, all four of us. Until last night that is.

I thought Lust, Caution was a good choice. There were those acrobatic and sometimes brutal sexual moves that had us tilting our heads and frowning in wonder, but the love scenes were actually an integral part of the storyline, and an uncliched romantic undertone shone through.

No gripes, except for this stabbing scene. I thought it truthfully portrayed the emotions behind a first time killling, but the fact that the guy didn't seem to die after 20 stabs made it seem a little like a scene out of an old Chinese horror movie. Haha. But it's all good.

Fate, the playful child.

Fate, the playful child.
music: 孫燕姿 - 遇見



Love at first sight
By Wislawa Szymborska

"They're both convinced
that a sudden passion joined them.
Such certainty is beautiful,
but uncertainty is more beautiful still.
Since they'd never met before, they're sure
that there'd been nothing between them.
But what's the word from the streets, staircases, hallways---
perhaps they've passed by each other a million times?
I want to ask them
if they don't remember---
a moment face to face
in some revolving door?
perhaps a "sorry" muttered in a crowd?
a cut "wrong number" caught in the receiver?
but I know the answer.
No, they don't remember.
They'd be amazed to hear
that Chance has been toying with them now for years.
Not quite ready yet
to become their Destiny,
it pushed them close, drove them apart,
it barred their path,
stifling a laugh,
and then leaped aside.
There were signs and signals,
even if they couldn't read them yet.
Perhaps three years ago
or just last Tuesday
a certain leaf fluttered from one shoulder to another?
Something was dropped and then picked up.
Who knows, maybe the ball that vanished
into childhood's thicket?
There were doorknobs and doorbells
where one touch had covered another beforehand.
Suitcases checked and standing side by side.
One night, perhaps, the same dream,
grown hazy by morning.
Every beginning
is only a sequel, after all,
and the book of events
is always open halfway through."

Describing the movie as cliched would be a serious understatement, but I think the narrative more than redeemed it.

So what if the coincidences depicted were eerily uncanny and unrealistic? In fact, the movie touched me in a way my usual fare of chick flicks haven't been able to.

The lines were honest yet romanticised, and to me at least, deeply moving. And if the lines weren't enough, I fell hook, line, and sinker for the poem.

Not a bad way to welcome the weekend, after a near hellish week of midnight deadlines and 4-hour bedtimes. Good morning Saturday.

Of the heartlands, for the heartlands.

Of the heartlands, for the heartlands.


picture from www.royston-tan.blogspot.com

Arriving a mere three minutes late had us scrambling around in the dark, in a theatre which shockingly did not have lighted alphabets and seat numbers. I caught sight of a "K", and thankfully knew my alphabets well enough to not have to stand in the aisles reciting it to figure out which was row "I".

I detest having to squeeze past the seated audience to get to my seat. I'm always faced with the dilemma of sticking my bum or my crotch in their faces, and I usually make a split second decision to go with the former. At least I can make a conscious effort to keep my bum out of their faces. If I were to enter the other way round, I might just hit the unlucky people in row 'J' at the back of their heads with my bum. Bum sweep.

I once mused on my flight to Bali: "If clothes maketh the man, then do the passengers on the plane define the destination?"

In this case, the audience seemed to define the getai scene that 881 was about. It wasn't so much of the younger cinema-going crowd I saw today, but instead people from the heartlands. And it was such a different experience to be sitting amongst them and watching a film that embodied the soul of the heartlands.

No pretentious angmoh slang-ers or giggly international school students, typical of romantic comedies; or the stuffy corporate types I see in Cinema Europa. It felt truly... Singaporean, complete with an ah beng who had a three-minute conversation on his handphone in the middle of the show. We gave him 45 seconds to answer his ringing phone and to inform the caller that he was in his cinema, but when he showed no signs of hanging up, "shhhhhh"s sprung up from all around the cinema. And still, Mr. Talkative yakked on, until a lady exclaimed, "Keep quiet!"

The film was awesome, and I could identify some of the framing techniques Shawn How mentioned during 108. I'm definitely a rookie when it comes to cinematography and what-nots, but this lack of technical know-hows doesn't make me any less appreciative of the film. In our world of Hollywood imports, this was close to home and all the more so heartwarming.

And watching it from amongst today's audience really added to the Singaporean charm. Yes, even Mr. Talkative.