Within Pandora's Box

Familiar and unfamiliar: another year forward

2011-12-31T20:57:00.002+08:00

I don't know if I want to gush. I've never actually been the sort of person to enjoy the dawning of a new year; for most of the previous new-year-eves' that I'd lived through, life stood the same. It's like any other day, really. You wake up in the morning, there's far too much sun streaming into your room, and you wonder for a moment if you're late for work before recalling that it's Saturday--a holiday. You breathe a sigh of relief.

And then it begins.

People ask, all the time. What're you doing for New Years' Eve? Most of the time, I have no response. Not because I'm too badass to celebrate - the honest to God answer, I'm afraid, is that I'm simply too much of a boring, housewifey homebody to even consider going out to party. The idea of sitting in a stuffy, smoky room with complete utter strangers in various stages of smelling-like-rotten-fish isn't particularly appealing for me. I'd much rather be at home. Stalking my friends on Facebook. Eating pot roast. Cooking that pot roast. Digging huge spoons into ice-cream. Reading cookbooks. Watching dramas.

It's the little comforts in life, after all, that make or break a day. These are my little comforts. They keep me whole and keep me sane. The comfort of knowing that I have a little kingdom to come home to, and to immerse myself in heart-and-soul. The comfort of knowing that I am loved, despite my shortcomings. The comfort of a hot, spicy bowl of soup on a cold, rainy day.

After all, what is life without all those?

So love yourself. Today is any other day. It's the dawn of a brand new year. But every day is a new day, and every dawn brings light anew. Live each day. Celebrate each day. Be grateful for it. Because at the end of it all, these days tell your story.

Cheers, folks.

Badass snobbery - not quite

2011-12-13T10:58:00.002+08:00

We all do it. More than anyone in the world, I'm guilty. My cousin tells me almost every other day that I'm a difficult person to impress. She's right. I'm a hard, tough, unimpressed bitchface who thinks very little of people who do not pull their weight, or do their part. I scoff at wannabe writers because I think the English language is a gorgeous and complex thing to be cherished - not destroyed. I am, in essence, Professor Henry Higgins - with a vagina.

I'm neither perfect nor always right, however. As much as I am loathe to admit it, and by George, I -am- loathe to admit it, I make mistakes. Hell, I mis-spelt 'reading' (rheading, what the heck) this morning while updating a status on Facebook. Truth is, I'm like any other person - only I read, and I read a lot. AND I make sure what I read is absorbed into my head, so that the next time I apply pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard, as it were) I know what is right and what is wrong.

I'm also a snob in one other way. I absolutely hate when I love something obscure, and then suddenly some big-shot Hollywood director makes a movie, and then suddenly everyone thinks they like it. Call it snobbery of the highest form if you will, but I detest the idea of people thinking, "Oh, ima like this song because the lyrics are so damn emo and they make me sound cool! Ima slit my wrists nao."

Oh, you say that in front of me, and you will witness the birth of a raging demon.

That, good sir, is snobbery. I'm a snob and I heartily admit it. Is it badass, though?

I demur.

That's not badass snobbery, that's just plain ol', 'I'm better than you', don't listen to my music and taint it with your emo, don't read my books and taint it with your stupid, snobbery.

And that has to stop. So today, I am putting aside my snobbery. You want to listen to Mumford and Sons? Do it. You want to listen to Damien Rice? Sure. I'm zen. I can take it. You want to read all of Jane Austen's books, even the most obscure ones, and talk Emma with me? Oh, by all means. Because today, I realise that literature, music, and everything beautiful about art belongs to all of us. Even those of us who don't know better.

...just, please, for the love of all that is gorgeous, don't PRETEND you know, if you don't. That's a completely different story, and will earn you a fuzzy pink slipper in-the-face.

...and on that note, over. *flails*

Band aid covers the bullet hole.

2011-11-17T15:55:00.003+08:00

Today is one of those days. Ever feel snappish, like all you want to do is to bite heads off?

...today is one of those days for me. I'm not entirely sure why; maybe I'm constipated, or maybe I'm feeling an unslaught of injustice that comes when I've been doing too much with too little sleep. To break pots would be an experience to savour at this point.

I think I may have laid myself a little bit bare as of late. Everything I realise I have to do brings me to some new levels of panic, and I think I may die if I keep this up.

Whoa, Em, neurotic much? >.<

Hello, November.

2011-11-17T01:44:00.007+08:00

November, to me, is an enigma. A time for reflection, as I often do when confronted with the basis of what we humans call Life. I know at least ten people born in this month. It's one of my busiest times of the year. No different now - I live constantly contemplating endless hair-tearing days.

Yes, work is busy. My thesis is -this- close to jumping off the screen and stabbing me in the eyes. I am tired and I want to crawl under my bed and sleep a month away, and wake up to realise that it's Christmas. Yet I am utterly, invariably breathless at where life has taken me this past year.

Oh, the endless rampage of datelines affixed to work and assignments. Those, I can forego, but this year, in other words, has been a journey. It never gets old, Italy. I swear, I could dream about that place and never wake up. La Morra seems to have captured me mind and spirit, and all I have to do is to look at the pictures I took there to remember just how at peace I felt that morning in the empty square, on my own, overlooking what I perceive to be heaven on earth.

I think that, at the end of the day, is likely the best present I have ever gotten for my birthday. Even if it was a month early.

In other news, barring the La Morra memories, I finally caved today and bought a bottle of Moscato - this particular one is Australian 'pink' Moscato (which, bloody hell, makes it sound so damn girly). It is, I must admit, pretty damn delicious, however.

A delicious blend of this Moscato, plus Light Coke, plus endless chatter with whitey and Phyl served to cheer me up immensely post-long-day-at-work. Note to self: remember to buy this exact same label to bring home for Chinese New Year celebrations.

Another note to self: NEVER EVER misplace Danny's cards again. After thoroughly searching my room, I discovered the first two cards he'd sent me for Valentines' day had gone missing. Guilt. Oh, the guilt.

Ah, well. All the more reason to build new memories, I suppose. Mm.

The great October escape: da una parte

2011-10-28T23:40:00.003+08:00

About this time last year, I'd taken one great escape down to Singapore, not quite so far away. I like to travel in October. It's that time of year where I know it's fall somewhere in the world, and fall is (for some very odd reason that, I swear, has everything to do with the Gilmore Girls) a season that I adore. The trees are prettier. Even if I'm standing in Malaysia, or Singapore, or any other country close by the equator.

This year, the Annual Great Escape took me to places I had never dreamed I would be able to see.

I saw Hong Kong. I saw Italy.

I saw the most beautiful sights in the world, lived the loveliest days. And at night, I went home to the prospect of a daily phone call with my favourite person in the world.

I won't have much to say on the subject here; I -do- write for a living, after all, and Italy is all about work. What I will come out and say, however, is that...

...Venice is not the most romantic city in the world. It's the small little town of La Morra in Piedmont, where the countryfolk sell the most gorgeous squash, tomatoes, and zucchini flowers. Grapevines stretching out in vineyards as far as the eye can see.

That, my friends, is true romance.

I fell in love with the earth.
I walk it still, toes deep in soil,
Knowing that my travels have brought me
To what I know is pure, utter magic.

Cheers, ya'll. Viva Italia!

Pre-Final Final Exams and Engagement Chicken

2011-04-27T02:55:00.003+08:00

I just realised; tomorrow is the second-last final exam I will ever take. Next semester, I'll have one more subject, and then my time in Uni is up. I'm officially an adult.

Boy, does that ever freak me out. On the plus side, more money! I've been eyeing some furniture for when I move out of Leanna's place; Ikea, here I come. (Wishlist includes a pretty pretty white bedframe that's all steel-twisty and stuff, a chest-of-drawers, and a cupboard)

I have been doing some thinking, though. Or over-thinking, as it were. Growing up comes with a crapload of responsibilities and thoughts--and mine, for most part, revolve around paying off all my debts, to both the government, and to my mother. I'm not sure how I'm going to do it, if I can do it, own my own house, and virtually just be debt free by the time I'm 30, but here's hoping I'll make it. I'm also saving saving saving for a round-the-world trip right smack to one particular spot some distance away from here. Prince Charming can certainly make his way here, but Princess Peach's gotta find a way to make her own fairytale come true, too.

Chyeah. Talk about planning for the future.

Speaking of the future, I should go study. I've been dawdling all day in the hopes of just miraculously absorbing the stuff I need to know via osmosis. (Maybe I should sleep on the textbook?) True story: I cooked a sumptuous feast for me and cousin Rozz ala Engagement Chicken, which is Glamour Magazine jargon for 'roast chicken with herbs and lemon', except I used a variation recipe which included apple and onion stuffing, as well as hugeass slabs of butter under the chicken skin. Oh goodness. Chicken comatose.

Oh, not to mention: if you serve this chicken to your man, he'll apparently propose. Ladies, use the recipe with care. Especially if you're not looking for a diamond ring just yet.

Coffee, then studying! Gotta dash!

Daily reminders: you are loved.

2011-04-20T17:26:00.003+08:00

"Sing me a love song
You're my man
Will you always love me the best you can?" -- "Harder than Easy" by Jack Savoretti

He said, simply, "I will."

Boy, I swear, that's enough to power a battery that out-lives the energizer bunny.

Some months later, she's moved on

2011-04-14T21:33:00.004+08:00

And so I have.

When I wrote that second-last post of mine, I was a different person. I didn't believe that dreams could come true, and not for a moment did I think that I would someday be the person that I am today. I had little idea that I would be so, so happy. So fulfilled. Exhausted, crawling into bed every night, but happy.

I've moved on, and beyond hate and anger. (That's not to say I don't still get the iffies when I think about my previous relationship--I'd be lying. I've got a lot of pent up emotions, most of which revolve around annoyance and silent rage)

But the point I'm trying to hit home now is that I'm happy. I am, impossibly, cheerfully, hopelessly happy, and that's because I've found, or rather, re-discovered someone in whom I can be myself. I can laugh and snort without fear of being judged. I can tell the truth without feeling anxious. I can take this person's company without feeling angry or annoyed at his being here. That's because he's been here all along. All of seven years.

He makes me giddy with happiness without ever forcing his beliefs, or his company, on me. He's cunning, but not in that sleazy, untrustworthy way. He makes me laugh, and never fails to curl my lips into a smile. I think of him when I'm alone and amongst friends, because really, as much as our horoscopes clash, it's him that I love. And at the end of the day? That mutual, shared love will bring us someplace. I know it. I'm sure of it. I've hung on for so long, and I'll keep hanging. Dropped the ball and slid a little far and in between--gotten hurt, and hurt someone else in return--but that's in the past. The pendulum keeps swinging, and time goes on.

And I love him. I always have. I'll always be proud of the fact. I know--bitch alert. It certainly wasn't fair to my ex, but as much as I'd love to be the one to blame here, I know I'm not, entirely. So I'll say it, loud and clear, and get it over and done with. If you know you won't be able to handle what I am about to say, please, for your sake, don't read on.

My previous relationship was a bad decision. I don't take well to being cheated into meeting the family. I don't enjoy being cunningly forced into joining family events. I do not like being forced to do things I don't want to do. I don't like having my alone-time taken away from me, and I certainly don't like being forced into a corner so hard that I end up crying in the bathroom.

I hate being hounded when I don't pick up the phone once, or even twice. I hate feeling emotionally blackmailed. I do not like pouting, and I hate when I am expected to take a guest when I have said no. I hate having to deal with people who think they know everything and anything, because sometimes, yes, I am right. My throat constricts at the very idea--I detest being talked over, as if I were a little girl who did not know better for myself.

And as much as I hate what was already mentioned, I also hate being made to feel like a bad girlfriend, because I know at the end of the day, that I was not as bad a girlfriend as I could have, and had reasons, to be.

And he doesn't do any of those things to me. He's had plenty of time to do it--seven years, three, if we want to get technical about when the feelings first started coming up. That's why it's him I want to come home to at the end of the day, him I turn to now when geckos raid my house. It's him I wake up grinning about, and him I am talking to when I get the heart fuzzies.

It's him I want to adopt those puppies with. And I will, one day. We'll make it. Even if we're a world apart.

I'll fight like hell for it.

I just realised something...

2010-12-12T20:04:00.001+08:00

...I've lost sight of why I truly started blogging. Back when I started blogging way back in 2003, my main intention was to have a place of my own to let loose, toss out thoughts of my own that would otherwise clutter/freak my mind out. Then I went to journalism school, where everyone had these wonderful blogs of their own, where everything was just concerned with hits and readers and a fanbase. That's not really healthy, now, is it? If everyone knew your innermost thoughts, there would eventually be nothing left for you. And we absolutely cannot have that.

Not to say I'd stop posting public things, here, but I think it's time I take a break and re-evaluate. What truly makes me happy will prevail in the end.

One bad egg-shelf equals thirteen bad eggs

2010-09-07T23:53:00.004+08:00

This happened last Saturday, but I figured I'd post the details of my pathetic life for people who might enjoy hearing about it.

I have a habit of stocking my fridge so that I'm never in want or need for food, yeah? It's to make sure that I don't starve if I end up stranded one way or another. Mom taught me well. So Friday, I went to Jaya Grocer to re-stock on stuff, and ended up buying ingredients to cook broccoli and chicken soup, and also bread, etc for stuff. I also re-stocked on eggs, since we were running out.

Then i got home and made soup to store for the weekend. In retrospect, it was pretty good soup, and I'd added cream to make it even... creamier. The recipe came from one of the 'fast soup' cookbooks I got, which I'm certain some people would call rubbish, but it's not that bad, really.

I made burgers for Saturday, though, with French herb ham and German smoked ham. Added in some mesclun, Japanese cucumbers, and tomato slices, and mm-mmm, were they delicious. Of course, my beautiful lunch wasn't exactly a testament to how awesome the rest of my day was going to be, because...

...well, it wasn't, really.

My right wrist had been clicking, yeah, from my excessive... er, leek chopping the day before, for the soup. I don't know why, heaven knows, but I had this notion that it would be fine for me to continue chopping things up quickly, as I've been doing lately (about ten chops per 2 seconds or so?), but apparently it screws with your wrist. It screwed with mine.

Of course, my wrist is fine by now (it's Tuesday, so it had BETTER be fine by now, sheesh!), but on Saturday, it was seriously giving me some trouble.

And then the big egg assault of 2010 happened. See, I'd been defrosting the fridge before, and I think the egg compartment had been held together by ice or something. So when the ice began to melt, all hell broke loose.

...or, rather, all my eggs broke.

I opened the fridge to check on the defrosting, and BAM. ALL the eggs fall, and I can only stand there in shock as yolks and whites begin to spread all over my floor. Guess who spent two hours cleaning the kitchen up, with her clicking wrist.

And me, being me, couldn't just -wipe- the floor with a cloth. I whipped out the mop. Washed the floor-mat that was in front of the fridge. Mopped the floor. And attempted to make a chocolate sponge cake with the cracked, but un-spilled eggs, which resulted in...

...well. Those of you who know sponge cakes, shh. Those of you who don't, you generally have to whip the egg whites into a medium peak before folding it into the batter, and... my wrist sucked. So I whipped the egg-whites into a sub-par medium peak and my cake collapsed in the fridge, like a bad souffle. But it tastes good, and I am now pretending it's pudding.

The wrist is fine now, though, and I am in the process of eating the remaining 'pudding' with whipped cream. :) I'm never defrosting my fridge while the egg-rack is full again. I've learnt my lesson.

...bloody eggs. *mutters*

Yummy sourdough bread does not make for a sweet afternoon

2010-08-28T22:46:00.003+08:00

You'd think that spending the morning at your workplace, learning tools of the trade (sourdough bread class, where I had my hands in dough, literally, making baguettes and loaves, mmm), would be heaven for someone who has come to love food as much as I do.

And, you know what, for those few hours, it was heaven. Sheer, absolute heaven. I learned and learned, how to make a sourdough starter, how to use the starters to form beautiful breads, how to tell if your starter is alive and kicking, and how to keep it alive. I spoke to the breadmaker master, interviewed him, and got the first sentence of my article (for the next issue of the magazine) all out and gorgeous in my head.

And no, I'm not going to say it here, because that's breaching the whole work-personal life thing.

But, yes. My point is that, I spent the morning HAPPY.

...then, as I descended the Kerinchi link onto Federal, my car died-ed.

It literally stalled, and died-ed.

Suffice to say, I almost started panicking. Come to think of it, I DID eventually end up panicking, but not before I tried to ring the William, whose phone happened to be dead-dead, like my car, at the time.

So I rang Eddy. The conversation pretty much went like this.

"Eddy."
"Eh, hallo."
"...please tell me you're not in Penang."
"I'm in HELP. What's up?"
"OH THANK GOD."

Thankfully, though, I finally managed to get The William, and he came to my rescue. Turns out the fuel meter is malfunctioning, and showed me that I had more fuel than I thought I had left.

...which, in retrospect, is SO not funny.

And so, now that the schtewpid car is filled and full, I'm back home, with my big bag of self-made bread. I've got pictures; actually, no, my colleague has them. I'll get them soonish and post 'em on Facebook.

I think, though, that working in the food industry = awful fun. Really.

Even if I -am- a mass comm major. ;)

Cheers, y'all. <3

"August has been a blur,"

2010-08-25T12:55:00.003+08:00

...she says, as she sips from an elegantly tall glass of chilled water (just right, not too hot, not yucky lukewarm). The expanse of the office opens up before her very eyes; her colleague cooking breakfast in the show kitchen, some Green Day playing on the radio (When I come around), and her other colleagues spread throughout the office reading recipes and designing cookbooks.

Hard to imagine, really, that just over a month and a half ago, this girl was an intern.

That girl, of course, is me.

When I started out here, I had, never in my wildest dreams, imagined how comfortable I would become here. I didn't imagine that I would want to actually continue working here past my internship period, yet here I am, nearing the end of that period, and feeling almost unwilling to let go.

It's been an awesome, amazing ride. I've seen and done things that I never thought I'd see and do. My cooking skills have definitely been honed to greater heights (I've got a beautiful pot of seafood curry in my fridge as proof to this). I've enjoyed every single moment of it. The writing, the editing, the pure journalism of the job.

Thanks, heavenly father up in heaven. This one's for you. :D

(Next up, RESULTS. Let's hope I do as well! 8D)

Cannes Advertising Awards at Taylors Lakeside Campus 2010

2010-06-11T21:14:00.004+08:00

Whoo, that's one heck of a long, bloody name.

Alright, so, last evening, my friends from Ad Campaign class, all in a great, giant group, decided to take on our lecturer's suggestion that we go for the Cannes Advertising Awards Predictions, etc. I'm not actually sure about the award name, but I know it's got something to do with Cannes, and that this predictions event is sponsored yearly by Leo Burnett. Whoo!

We met at Taylor's about 8-ish. The campus is beautifully... new. HELP's literally an underground bomb shelter, as Leanna so aptly puts it. Sometimes, I wonder how it'd be like, and how my life would be if I'd decided to go to another uni. XD

Nah, just kidding. I love HELP, even if we DO come up with certain ridiculous things at the worst of times.

We had a bit of fun with the refreshments; Benji, very much in love with the fried chicken, suggested Nelson steal the entire tray and stick it into the car, since Nelson was dressed EXACTLY the way the servers were. Seriously, sometimes, I figure, HELP students are just crazy. But good crazy.

Let's see, I'm not sure who else was there, but I know for a fact that Gracie (Wong), Jo, Hamid, Bee-Leanna, Bee-Wei Lian, Calvin, Angel... etc, were there. Good funny group, vastly entertaining.

Oh, the ADs themselves were vastly entertaining, too. We got to watch a reel of 41 advertisements and advertisement campaigns, and I found them generally... very smart. They're things you don't normally think of.

My favourite, favourite, FAVOURITE, is this one.

It's by TBWA, for AIDES, which campaigns for safe sex. The entire hall erupted into cheers and laughter. XD Something so simple, yet so HILARIOUS... great job, I do believe.

Following this are the rest of my picks, in no particular order:
1) Topsy Foundation - "Selinah"
2) New Zealand Book Council - "Going West"
3) Vancouver International Film Festival - "Sexuality/Subtitles"
4) Axe - "Destiny"
5) Canal+ -"Closet"
6) Nike Football - "Write the Future "
7) MCYS - "Beautifully Imperfect"
8) Microsoft Xbox 360 Halo3: ODST - "The Life"

The rest are really great advertising campaign ideas. Seriously.
1) HBO - "It's more than you imagined"
2) Canon Eos - "Photochains"
3) Ikea - "Facebook Showroom"
4) Nokia - "The World's biggest signpost"
5) Shelter - "House of Cards exhibition"
6) Metropolitan Police - "Choose a different ending"
7) Gatorade - "Replay"
8) Andes Beer - "Teletransporter"

I had to narrow it down to just 15 choices, for my predictions, but augh, it was difficult. Surprisingly enough, some of the nominees, with giant brand names, such as McDonalds, Skittles, Evian (OH MY GOD SCARY ROLLERBLADING BABIES SO WRONG ARGH), Dominos, and so on, kinda tanked.

Ah, well. Goes to show, humans really -can- be bloody creative. Seriously. Whoo! I almost want to just start a photochain right now. XD

Let's see who really wins when the awards kick in!

Baking, Takes I, II, and III

2010-06-11T18:53:00.005+08:00

Okay, another long hiatus, I know. Feel free to thwap me over the head with something hard and heavy, yes. I've been very busy, though, so there's my excuse.

Working on assignments, entertaining the boyfriend and entertaining the friends, also writing cover letters and sending them out to various organisations in an enquiry for an internship. V. difficult to find time for myself. I -have-, however, been watching Jane Austen's Emma, produced by BBC. The one with Romola Garai in it.

I love it. LOVE it. Absolutely LOVE it, whatever the critics say.

So, given that I am in this crazy cooking mood, I decided to bake. The first recipe I tried, Famous Amos Chocolate Chip Cookies, was pretty darn good, if I do say so myself. Unfortunately, given that it was my first time actually baking, I managed to overcook quite a few batches, and ended up with not-a-lot-of-good cookies.

Overbaked. GAH.

SO! The SECOND time I tried to bake, I tried Oatmeal Raisin cookies. They actually -tasted- pretty damn good this time around, though I don't have any pictures of them. HOWEVER, I had a little moment of panic with this one, when I realised that the cookie batter was a little bit... too soft.

So I contemplated; was it meant to be a chewy cookie? At the same time, I was inwardly freaking out, because I had used instant oats when the recipe had called for rolled oats. (Oh, come on, how different CAN they be?!)

...so I added flour after the first two batches. Big mistake. BIG.

As it turns out, the first two batches, soft and crumbly as they were, turned out to be the best. XD

So, the third time I decided to bake, I went back to the chocolate-chip cookie recipe, because me, being me, was very much affronted by the fact that I'd overbaked them the first time around.

Oh. My. Lord.

Perfection. Absolute perfection, this time around.

So in short.

Cookies: not so easy to bake.

But! When you hit PERFECTION, they really ARE just perfect. Mm. ~<3

So my question is this. WOULD any of you buy pre-packaged cookies from online blogshops? Like, cookies that are packed in pretty little jars and all that, novelty gifts for friends.

What's the verdict? Let me know. I'm itching to do something here.

Next up: Fruit tarts. I want to make fruit tarts. Mmmm.

Movie Review: Iron Man 2

2010-05-24T01:32:00.003+08:00

Number of times watched Iron Man 2: 1
Number of times wanted to tackle Tony Stark a.k.a Robert Downey Jr.: 194, 940
Number of times realised was gawking innapropriately in cinema: 194, 940
Movie rating: 4/5

So. Tony Stark. Yummy.

For something so highly anticipated, I have to say, in my own opinion, that Iron Man 2 was not a major disappointment. Sure, it could have been better, but which movie can claim it's the best it can be these days? At the end of the day, it was entertaining, vastly so, and Rob. Dow's performance was, as always, spectacular enough that I was kept hooked to the very end.

Speaking of character portrayals, I have to say, (even though I detest her with the fiery vengeance of a thousand suns) that Scarlett Johanssen (sp?) was pretty good here. I didn't hate her half as much as I'm used to when watching her in movies, and I actually kinda liked her. Couz Rozz and I decided at the end of the movie that it was likely because she didn't say much. I attribute it to the fact that she is also a brunette here, as opposed to blonde.I'm thinking darker colours are better for her.

Gwyneth Parltrow as Pepper was amazing, once again. The relationship between her and Tony is beautiful to watch, and so very funny, because they act as if they were an old married couple. It's just very endearing somehow, and I find myself routing for them to work out.

So cute.

I also realised, while watching Iron Man 1 earlier today, that there was a lot of foreshadowing in the first movie for the second. For one, Tony literally guzzles chlorofil in the 2nd movie, and he is seen drinking some green liquid (which I am assuming is the chlorofil stuff) while sitting in his workspace in movie number 1. Then there's that bit where Rhodey sends Tony off in his Iron Man suit, and he glances back towards a spare silver suit, and goes, "Next time, baby!"

Boy, was he right. Foreshadowing much? I love finding things like this out post-sequel. It just shows how much thought is put into expanding the movie into a future sequel, which is synonymous with, "Hey, we actually visualised the movie with a sequel when we first started, and we're not just slapping some lame storyline and great CGI together to gain big bucks."

Mmm. What I didn't like, or get, at the very end, was how easy it was to defeat the bad guy. Eh. That's just one blip on the radar, one flaw. 4/5 is still pretty darn awesome.

...and, Iron Man in a suitcase. That is all I am going to say on that matter--you will understand when you watch the movie.

Go Tony! I'm certainly looking forward to another sequel!

Introducing Chicken, the most Versatile Meat EVER.

2010-05-24T00:41:00.002+08:00

So I finally caved and bought a cookbook. It was going for RM 30 in Atria, which is quite cheap, considering how most cookbooks, (this one is hardcover) are expensive as all heck in other bookstores. The one I bought is called the Complete Chicken Cookbook.

Big cookbook is big. Ignore the fact that I look a little demented in this picture, please. I was feeling quite demented at that point in time. XD

Anyhow! I've only cooked one recipe from it so far, and I have to say, I am liking it very much. I'd only just gotten back to KL, and most people would not want to cook after a 4-hour drive back from Penang. But me, being me, (and inadvertently a little crazy and skillet-happy) had cooking urges.

...and so I went to Tesco and on impulse purchased a whole chicken.

My purpose, of course, was to cook one of the roast-chicken recipes (that can be found in the appropriate section in my cookbook). So I came up with the recipe with the least amount of ingredients, since I didn't want to have to carry too many things up into the condo. I was already lugging back a bunch of things from Penang, and I am not Wonder-woman with super-atomic-strength.

The recipe I had decided to cook: Roast chicken with country sage stuffing.

Ingredients:
1.5 kg chicken
45 grams butter
1 onion, finely chopped
1 celery stick, thinly sliced
2 cups fresh white breadcrumbs
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon white pepper
10 large, fresh sage leaves, shredded, or 1 1/2 teaspoons dried sage
1/3 cup finely chopped fresh parsley
2 egg whites, lightly beaten
30 grams butter, melted
1 tablespoon plain flour

The main idea is to make a stuffing out of butter, breadcrumbs, celery, onions, parsley, sage and egg whites (fry all those in the butter together), and let that work its magic on the chicken as it roasts. I couldn't find breadcrumbs in Tesco, and I sure as heck wasn't about to drive all the way to Jaya Grocer (although I still love Jaya Grocer to bits) to get some, so I decided to substitute breadcrumbs with small cuts of baton from Tesco's bread counter. (A baton is pretty much a small baguette)

I also decided to chop the chicken liver up, and threw it into the mix for flavour. It tasted amazing-awesome, though as it turns out, I added too much salt to the stuffing. It's a mix of peppery-salty, but it tastes really good, since the salty works wonders against the otherwise unflavoured chicken meat. Anyhow, for those of you who are squeamish about eating chicken innards, I would suggest against it. (Either that, or blend it up so you won't know what you're eating.)

I threw some onions, carrots, and potatoes into the pan to roast alongside the chicken, well-tossed in salt and butter, too. Can't have a complete dinner without the veggies.

The boyfriend came over after his band practice, and I served him chicken ala country. To my understanding, he quite enjoyed it.

And so, the cookbook triumphs. What next? I'm thinking Hainan Chicken Rice. <3

Life Update: Moving House, Results

2010-05-24T00:28:00.004+08:00

It's been a while since my last entry, I know, and you may all throw rocks at me, (if, in fact, there are people reading me out there, which I sincerely doubt anyway, I'm not very interesting, hint hint) and then your pitchforks in true ogre style. At any rate!

I've officially moved into Leanna's family condo in Bukit OUG, and for what it's worth, it cannot be more perfect. It will be me and her in this house, and occasionally, when she is in Rawang, I get it all to myself. My room is purdiful, as is the house. Pictures follow.

Two shots of my room and one of the living room. I'd upload the others that I'd taken, but... I'd rather not. (I don't think any of you want to see pictures of my toilet, that's kinda... eh.)

Nothing much has happened beyond the moving of the house and the ever... disturbing many visits I have had to the doctor lately, for reasons I shall keep to myself because... yeah. I finally got my results for the last semester, and I think I did well enough.

One A for Publication Design (apparently I'm good at designing magazine/newspaper pages), one A- for Advertising Copywriting, one B+ for Info Tech, and one C+ for Public Relations. NO surprise there, since I didn't think I'd do well for PR, but eh.

I'm all good and registered for my subjects for this semester, too. I'll be taking Feature Writing, News Editing, and Advertising Campaign. I'll also be working on my internship this coming hols, so if anyone knows of any magazine who's hiring a page design/journalist intern, let me know!

Also, I think I never fully appreciated the value of money until I had RM 11 to last me 7 days. Granted I had instant noodles and many other variations of simple-cook food at home to last me, and a boyfriend who would bring me dinner and force me out to eat, but still.

Money is important. Yeesh. Scary how that doesn't really strike you until you're in desperate need of it.

Anyhow! My landlady's money came through finally, and I got my PTPTN. Fees are all paid, and I am going to be learning how to save from now on. Which means no more crazy sprees on food. Instead of drinking Coke, I shall drink water. Healthy and money-saving.

So far, I'm one-week-sober off Coke! Whee~

Nostalgia: Holy Crap, Did I Do THAT?!

2010-04-18T23:26:00.007+08:00

Ever looked back at old photographs taken from the heydays of your high-school years, smiled at the memories, thought back with extreme fondness of the folks you loved and cherished, and wondered how much you have changed since then?

People do that from time to time, looking back. I do it quite a bit, and when I do, I am always filled with love, admiration, and affection for the people I knew, and the people I -know-. The people I call my sisters and friends, my freaks.

...and then I realise how far we've grown and how far we've come. Once, we were girls. Now, we're ladies. How did that happen?

And then I look properly at the pictures, and take a good, long, hard look at myself. I subconsciously count the zits on my face, and in my mind, thank God for ALL the pimples that have now ceased to exist. I also slip in silent thanks for the way my face has thinned out, and wonder how the heck I managed to make friends looking the way I did then.

I used to think this was a good picture of myself. (Read: Used) Now I look at it and I think, "Dear sweet holy bananas flying in cow bellies, I look like a bloody tuna-fish that's been scaled and stepped on time and again. I look bloody awful."

But see, I had friends, even then, to love, hold, and support me through even my (literally!) ugliest years. And with each other's guidance, friendship, and with a little bit of luck, we have emerged, and are now...

...butterflies.

Well, not literally, but you get my drift. We've all matured since our gangly, chubby, pimply, funky-hair days, and if you ask me, I'll say, "Good job, girls. Good job indeed."

For my part, I think we all grew up pretty good.

Though; the point of this entry isn't the fact that I went from left (2005) to right (2010). (Though if I may make a side-note here, it is that ugly people eventually become less ugly, and yes, I am aware that the second picture is taken while I have makeup on, and shows me in a very good angle, but for the sake of backside-tickling, just let me believe that I am prettier now, okay?)

My point is that, crap-faced or not, I had friends, and true friends, who stuck with me from then through to now. My point is that my friends, my sisters, drew me out, the real me, despite all my reservations, and helped me experience life. My point is that, we did many things in our teenage years that I cannot even begin to imagine doing now, at this point in time, and I regret none of it. We grew up together, and we've done everything together; skipped school to do 'heritage projects', bicycled all around old Penang town, put on grand ol' plays to entertain our school, organised events in which our Literary and Debating society were made proud...

...we did everything. (And that includes us making videos of ourselves singing in the car, proposing to trees, and dancing to madness in hotel rooms; the evidence to this lies in my lappietop)

Did you live your life? Have you, despite your (self-assumed) shortcomings, found the courage to break free and do the things you have always wanted to do with your friends? Did you break the rules, just once, to see how it tastes?

Live your life. Because when the clock strikes 12, and you realise it's too late to do the crazy, you'll wish you had before.

Alright, rambling over for now; Emmy out!

Movie Review: Kaiji

2010-04-17T09:58:00.003+08:00

I went to watch Kaiji on my own. Because I am a crazy mad woman who finds ogling men far too enjoyable to give up.

Rating: 2.5/5
Number of times watched it: 1
Number of times wanted to touch Tatsuya Fujiwara inappropriately during film: 29

I wouldn't say the storyline for the film was amazing, overall, but it made cow sense, at the very least. I figured out through the all-knowing internetz that Kaiji was actually an anime to begin with, and I quite like the concept for it. Redemption through gambling. How very twisted.

I did, however, find it very strange that the Japanese police didn't discover that big underground group. All those people living down there, looking forward to beers and chips... and yakitori sticks. (And, right after I saw the movie, I walked down to Jaya Jusco to get some, hahahahaha!)

I -do- have to say, though, that, as simple as the concept of E-card is, it's actually pretty damn twisted. It's a bloody game of chance. Either that, or you're going to have to read your opponent really well, and I'm no bloody good at that, either. Still, good concept for a quick card game. The fella who played the villain, Tonegawa, was really good. He has a very... (If I were speaking in canto, I'd say, 'yong sui', which means 'bad face') ...big face problem, which helps, I think, in this role. He looks the part of the villain well enough.

I also spent the majority of the movie ogling Tatsuya Fujiwara. I fell in love with him during Death Note, but this--THIS is just GOLD. The second I saw him kicking a mercedes benz (was it that, or a BMW?), I fell in love. Heeheehee, oh, Tatsuya~<3

Besides. Who can -not- fall in love with this face?

Yes, I am aware of how dumb-blonde I sound right about now. You all may shoot me for it later.

One thing that irked me, though, was how they advertised. "The cast of Death Note reunites...", and so on.

Putting Tatsuya Fujiwara (Light) and Ken'ichi Matsuyama (L) in the same movie, does NOT equal the 'cast of Death Note'. That's like, two cast members of the same movie, sheesh.

But, at any rate, good enough to be watched, if only to swoon. I'd watch it again, but... I'm weird that way.

Happy Tatsuya'ing! 8D

Movie Review: How to Train Your Dragon

2010-04-11T19:03:00.004+08:00

I'd like to state for a fact, first and foremost, that I love this movie. Thank you.

Moving on from that--

Movie rating: 5/5
Number of times watched movie to date: 2
Number of times realised loved the soundtrack: 10+
Number of times aww'd over Toothless: Oh, countless dozens...

Dreamworks has done it again. To be quite honest, I'd lost hope after Shrek the 3rd; I mean, it was good and funny, but it just didn't have that WOW factor, but BOY did How to Train Your Dragon pull them back into the game like *snap*!

From beginning to end, starting from the first sounds of Hiccup's jaded baritone to the happy, sappy, let's-get-cuddly ending scene, I sat at the edge of my seat. And I'm pretty certain my face was twisted into an odd sort of expression, that likely said, "I WANT A DRAGON OF MY OWN N'AWWWWWW TOOTHLESS IS SO CUTE ARGH HE'S MINE!"

...yeah, that's how much I enjoyed it. Seriously.

I have to say, one of the best things about this movie is the amount of detail and thought they put into it. Odin and Thor were mentioned when people swore at things (mostly Hiccup); Norse gods that very few people are educated about, which I love. The jokes were funny, and not overdone; they didn't make me feel like I was at a frat party where most of the guests were drunk on cheap wine and looking to give some cheap laughs.

And, seriously. Making helmets out of breast-plates? GENIUS.

Also, how cute is it that dragons are pretty much just like giant dogs and cats? Rolling around in grass, curling up when scratched in the right places...

...that's just too damn cute, dei.

Another thing I loved about this movie, I think, is the relationship that is slowly built between Hiccup and Toothless. I think, given the length of the movie, it progressed really well, and we got to see some really sweet moments between them. Where Toothless would once have killed any human who came within a 5-meter radius of him, he loved Hiccup enough to stop when told to.

Good dog. Good dragon.

But the parallel drawn between Hiccup and Toothless is likely one of the most beautiful on-screen relationships I have ever seen. It's a beautiful friendship, and definitely much more wonderful than Eragon and Saphira, (though in the book, that's actually pretty damn cute). Hiccup said it, himself, even, that he saw himself in Toothless's eyes. And the fact that he -wouldn't- kill Toothless is pretty damn amazing.

And, as bittersweet as the ending was, I loved it. I loved watching them walk out of the door, two creatures, different in so many ways, but similar in every way possible. (It's a spoiler, and I'm not going to spoil it for those of you who haven't seen it)

At the end of the day, though, even if it -wasn't- as amazing as it was, who could resist this?

Yeah, I thought so. =P That darling creature is just irresistible.

*wants to cuddlehugsnuggle Toothless to death*

I can has pet dragon? Who wants to get me one? I'll cook for you, I promise!

A Beef Bourguignon Adventure with Julia Child

2010-04-11T17:56:00.005+08:00

I know it's been a long time since my last post, and I apologise profusely for that for any who've been waiting for me to post! (Doubt it, since I'm not really that interesting. *winkwinkhinthint*) BUT I have my reasons.

Number 1, I have housing problems. Half resolved, still stressing over it.
Number 2, I had romantic problems. All resolved now, though.
Number 3, I had stupid dead phone problems. Resolved now, thankfully.

And how much like me is it to have tandoori chicken roasting in the oven when I'm blogging about last week's Beef Bourguignon adventure?

Yeah, figures.

So, Snuffpeet came over to KL last weekend for Good Friday. My gift to her was to cook beef bourguignon, because I am the chef in the family. (Read: Because my sister cannot cook)

SO!

I went to Tesco to get ingredients this time around, because let's face it. I'm a student on a budget, and if I keep buying expensive ingredients at Jaya Grocer (Not that expensive, but definitely a dent when compared to Tesco), I am going to be fat and poor, as opposed to just fat.

The details of my mad rampage around Tesco are a blur to me right now, but the things I remember picking up are as follows:

1) Beef, because this is BEEF BOURGUIGNON. But really, the huge-ass chunks that I picked up were... huge. HUGE. Like, you could wallop a person over the face with it, and it'd cover the entire face.
2) Herbs! I had to get parsley and thyme, fresh, and OH MY GOODNESS they smelt WONDERFUL.
3) Mushrooms, I got two kinds; swiss brown mushrooms and portobellos. Mmm.
4) Red wine, I got some from Chile.

And I needed a caserolle (read: fireproof pot) for the oven-stewing period.

SO, I lugged all that back to my place (read: William carried my stuff for me), and then sped off to fetch Snuffpeet at the old railway station where her bus had stopped.

Guess who was an hour late. Whoo.

Due to my lateness and the fact that we had a late lunch (sushi at Zanmai!) at around... 5-ish, we decided to save the beef for the next day. So that night, we headed out to dinner at Sunway Giza with couz Rozz, where I decided to substitute the bay leaf with oregano instead. (Bay leaves are so hard to find in bloody Malaysia)

That night, I had a moment of panic when I realised that I had a bottle of wine to open, and no corkscrew. But this was remedied by means of an ice-pick and a lot of brute strength.

Wine bottle = 0
Emmy = 1

I win.

The next morning, I woke up bright and early to cook beef bourguignon for lunch. I'd prepared some of the ingredients the night before, cut the beef into cubes as per instructed, sliced the schrooms to specification, and so on and so forth.

Another moment of panic surfaced as I was frying the beef. Julia said to dry the beef with paper towels, to ensure that they would brown properly.

She never said anything about the paper towels sticking onto the beef. Ugh.

BUT I managed, anyway, and got it all good, fried, and yummy. Stirred the beef cubes in with the bacon, and OH MY GOOD LORD it was good at this point. I couldn't help feeling self-satisfied as I poured red wine into the stew and watched it simmer. It was... mmm. And then I added the beef stock, and it was magic. Sheer, wonderful magic.

Whilst the stew was cooking in the oven, I worked with the onions and herbs. The herb bouquet, comprising parsley, thyme and oregano smelt -amazing-, and that, plus the combination of beef stock made the onions AMAZING. I swear, I could've lived on those onions alone.

And I died a little inside when I threw that herb bouquet away. Should've just ground it into dust and tossed it into the stew.

Anyhow! Some hours of careful cooking later, the final result that greeted my eyes, alongside the wonderful wonderful scent, was this.

You can see everything in that second picture; onion, carrot, mushroom, BEEF.

Snuffpeet and couz Rozz loved it. William liked it as far as I could tell.

Brought leftovers to uni on Tuesday, and Christine almost licked the container. Leanna and Sue fought over it.

Yes, I am very self-satisfied right now. 8D

Meme: A Box of Me - Three Years Later

2010-03-18T16:19:00.004+08:00

I did this same meme three years ago, and it's here for any who are curious. I decided to look under my old entries, and came across it; so I am doing it again.

Shall we see how much I have changed in past years?

Here goes.

---

So, say you were meeting a new person--blind date, new friend, who knows. And you wanted them to have some idea of what kind of person you are, and who you are. But you can't actually tell them in so many words. Instead, you have to give them a box, with a dozen things in it for them to look at/read/listen to/taste/whatever. What would you put in the box? And a copy of your journal or a link to your LJ would be the same thing as just telling them directly, yourself, so that's not allowed.

My box (in no particular order of importance):

1. A file with printed-out recipes of what I have cooked/will cook, along with photographs of my culinary successes.
2. An external hard-drive filled with movie soundtracks, music from Grey's Anatomy, Jap songs from animes, and all my other favourite stuff from various artists in various genres. As well as TV series'es such as Grey's Anatomy, House, and Gilmore Girls.
3. Calvin and Hobbes comic books by Bill Watterson, as well as Foxtrot by Bill Amend.
4. Bible, and some choice Hillsong CDs with all my favourite songs in them; Hossana, His Glory Appears, This is Our God, You'll Come, Freedom is Here, Tear Down the Walls, Saviour King, and so on and so forth.
5. Fantasy novels: Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, Jennifer Roberson's Chronicles of the Cheysuli and the Karavans set, and Pride and Prejudice, as well as Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen. Philippa Gregory's The Other Boleyn Girl, too.
6. A huge movie poster depicting Disney's finest works.
7. A stuffed seal, and an attached note: "I want him back, don't touch him funny. His name is Andre."
8. A word file containing some of my writings. As well as some of my roleplay logs from New Worlds Ateraan.
9. Coke. Lots and lots of it.
10. An anti-smokers t-shirt and a pack of gum.
11. A mop and floor detergent as well as Phyl's poem to my obsessive-compulsiveness and general housewifeness on FB. (I'll post it later)
12. Scanned prints of some of my best art pieces.

---

Go do your own. :)

MUDs and MU*s for Dummies

2010-03-14T22:40:00.008+08:00

So, after seven years of roleplaying in MUDs online, I believe that it is finally time for me to write a blog entry explaining it. MUD clients are generally -very- technical-looking, which more often than not sparks weird looks from random strangers when I am playing in public.

This all stops now. The next time someone asks me, "What's that weird thing you're doing?", I will tell them, "I AM MUDDING. READ MY BLOG."

Savvy?

First off. What is a MUD?

According to MUD Wiki, a MUD (Multi User Dungeon) is a...

...multi-user world described entirely in text. It combines elements of roleplaying games, hack and slash, interactive fiction, and online chat. Players can read descriptions of rooms, objects, other players, non-player characters, and actions performed in the virtual world. Players interact with each other and the world by typing commands that resemble a natural language. It has been argued that modern game-like MMORPGs, such as World of Warcraft, and social virtual worlds such as Second Life can have their origins traced back to the original MUDs. The MMORPG Runescape originally started out as a text-based MUD before graphics were added.

Sound difficult? It isn't, really.

To put it simply, a MUD is pretty much a glorified chatroom that is usually set in either a fantasy/medieval world, or a sci-fi/modern world. In this glorified chatroom, the average Joe and the average Mary can set aside the restrictions of reality, and essentially pass into the internet, and re-emerge within the MUD realm as their characters.

Average Joe may become a 6-feet tall and handsome elf mage. In this same manner, Average Mary may play a fair nymph druidess.

To join a MUD is to become someone else. You don't exist; only your character does.

Because I am a bloody medieval/fantasy fangirl, I play only medieval/fantasy MUDs.

My current favourite, one which has for some reason, managed to surpass my old love, the Cities of M'Dhoria, is a MUD called New Worlds Ateraan. For this purpose, I shall be illustrating examples taken from within New Worlds.

The typical startup screen for a MUD looks like that. Of course, you'll need to download a client to play in a MUD (I use MUSHclient), and every MUD has a different IP address, as well as a different port number that you will need in order to connect to the game. Think of every MUD as a different chatroom.

When you create a character in a MUD, you are first asked to make several basic choices. Are you male, or female? Are you a human, an elf, a feline, a lykan, a centaur, a nymph? Are you tall, or are you short? Young or old, pretty or regular, smart or slow? Are you a merchant, a mage, a druid, a fighter, a shaman, a cleric? All these are choices you make that will effectively affect your character as he or she progresses into the MUD world.

As aforementioned, descriptions are just about everything in a MUD. EVERYTHING is described in words; from 'rooms', to character appearances, to clothing items, to objects.

So, imagine this is a MUD client, and you see this output.

---
East Forest

The wind softly rushes through the leaves, rustling all about you. This ancient, stately forest is teeming with wildlife and tall trees that reach high above, branches tangling to shut out light. Whilst you tread in these enchanted woodlands, all time seems to stand still in the wake of your footsteps. Calm mist wisps softly through the trees and in the distance is a twinkling of light.

Obvious exits : east and south.

Nivienne.
Male elf.
---

Obvious exits are obvious. Depending on which direction you wish to travel, you type 'east' or 'south', and hit enter. Easy as that. Navigation was never easier. MUDs are generally extensive worlds, in which exploration and travel is exciting and fun.

Lo and behold, there are people in this particular room! (Most MUDs will show you the names of people you have met and introduced yourself to, and the race and gender of the people you have not met. This is all coded, so don't twist your head around wondering how it happens. The gist of it is that you type a command and hit enter, and the MUD will do the rest.)

Other characters in MUDs are played by other people, of course. This is where it gets interesting. It is like writing a story with other people, though you will never know how their characters till react to your characters. That is exactly why MUDs are always interesting, and never stagnant; people react differently to different things.

Going back to descriptions, however. If you were in that particular room, and wanted to take a closer look at Nivienne (who is incidentally my actual character in NWA), you would simply have to type 'look nivienne' and hit enter.

And the MUD responds with:

---

You see a female elf,
{Her hair is woven into a thick and loose braid amidst some lengths of thin, golden thread, and is drawn over her right shoulder so that its curling tips brush against her abdomen.}

This elven lady stands tall, though not excessively so for the women of her race, at a height of nearly six feet. Her back is held straight, and her chin worn high to paint her a regal, and ever so slightly aloof personna, though this is offset by the friendly upward curve of her petite, pale-pink lips. Her skin is pale, and coupled with the fairness of her hair and eyes, gives her a rather waifish appearance. A sharp, elegant nose rests at the perfect center of her almond-shaped eyes.

She has waist-length ringlets of platinum blonde.
She has misty grey eyes that are heavily lined in black and earthen browns.
She is in perfect condition.

Clothing : black lace hair-ribbons
silver swan pendant
ebon brocade paplos with a silver lily clasp
silver link bracelet
silver-hemmed chiton of ebony silk
cork-soled slippers with black ribbon ties

Carrying : backpack.
backpack.
pouch.
She has no money.

---

You see, of course, that she is described down to a T; her appearance, and her clothes. This, of course, varies from character to character, as each person is likely to describe their online personnas in different manners.

So to begin 'chatting', or roleplaying, you utilise the most basic of commands.

'say Hello.' will result in:

You say, "Hello."

'say to nivienne Hello.' will result in:

You say to Nivienne, "Hello."

Quite Easily Demonstrated. The person playing Nivienne, ME, essentially, will respond, having seen your say (says can be seen by everyone in the same room):

Nivienne says to you, "Hello."

And so it goes on and on and on. Of course, you'll also have 'emotes' to depict your character's actions. I'm very well aware that your head is already spinning with all this information, but this is really simple.

'emote scratches her nose' will result in (assuming your name is Simone, because I am listening to Au Revoir Simone):

Simone scratches her nose.

'emote bites her lip' will result in:

Simone bites her lip.

Easy enough?

Definitely. Using these simple tools, you can essentially build relationships and storylines within the confines of the MUD world you are playing in. It's addictive, it's fun, and at the end of the day, it hones your English to near perfection, if you keep at it long enough.

Of course, there are coded battles that one may get into with monsters and NPCs, not unlike your run-o'-the-mill RPGs (Dota, World of Warcraft), minus the graphics. I won't go into detail here, but it is generally one of players' priorities to get their characters 'leveled up' in their classes. Some MUDs max levels at 50, whilst NWA stops at 30. (Trust me, it's hard, but it's worth it)

Hurrah for MUDs! (And seriously, don't ask me 'what's that black-hacker-like-thing you're playing?' ever again. I will bite.)

Drinking mayonnaise is -NOT- good, no matter how good it tastes.

2010-03-11T21:37:00.004+08:00

Every time I decide to cook something that both looks and tastes delicious, my couz and I inadvertently end up slightly shit-faced, and just a touch disgusted with ourselves. Today's no different, to be completely honest, but I seriously doubt that we are any closer to wanting to cease and desist with all this cooking and eating.

So today, I cooked this. Roasted whitefish wrapped in smoked streaky bacon with steamed asparagus and lemon mayonnaise, courtesey of Jamie Oliver.

There is a sentence in Julie and Julia, where Amy Adams says, "But then I came home and cooked chicken with cream, mushrooms and port, and it was total bliss."

That is the best sentence ever to describe my day, seriously.

I likely fell down/was close to it twice today, and I took a longlonglong walk in the sun from my university's side-campus to the main campus. In the hot sun. In 3.5-inch wedges.

I am wonderwoman.

Once I got back to the main campus, William texted me and we headed to Ikea for lunch, where I showed him the wonder of Ikea meatballs and magic princess cake. (It's not really magic, it's just really delish)

I had the gravad lax, which is basically smoked salmon with a really good yellow honey-mustard sauce. Mmm.

I also bought a new pair of shoes; gladiator sandals, which would have looked so much better as heels, but as I realised today, heels and me just don't go that great together.

At any rate, by the time I got back to Jaya Grocer, it was 5:30 in the afternoon, and I was WAY behind schedule. I did, however, manage to work fast this time around. The recipe didn't require much work, and I got done fast enough. We sat down to dinner by 7:30.

I used dory-fish as a substitute for Jamie's reccomendation; cod, which is really far too expensive for my student's budget. The smoked streaky bacon was delish, though, and I think the mayonnaise may be something that I have fallen irrevocably in love with. It's zesty...

Damn you, Jamie Oliver! (No, not really) Bacon -and- mayo, the most healthy thing on this plate is likely the asparagus.

Speaking of which, today was the first time I've ever had asparagus, and I quite liked it. It's meaty, like he said it would be!

Take a deep breath, because I think it may be time for me to try, actually, literally try, Julia Child's beef bourguignon. I imagine I'll find the inspiration to do it in the coming weeks. Seems I've gotten a penchant for cooking that isn't disappearing.

And oi, I am sneezing. Whoever's talking about me, stop, or I will hit you with my leftover mayonnaise!

Movie Review: Solomon Kane

2010-03-09T21:54:00.003+08:00

It's been a really long time since I'd watched a movie alone in the cinema, and to be quite honest, I rather enjoyed the experience. Obviously there are pros and cons to watching a movie with friends/watching a movie on your own, but one thing I noticed recently when it comes to watching a movie on my own is that I am very much more likely to pay more attention to the film. There is no one distracting me, no one to giggle with at funny scenes. When I watch a movie on my own, it is just me, the screen, and the characters set before me.

Solomon Kane.

You know how you step into the cinema, the hair upon your arms bristled in anticipation of an upcoming movie of swoony joy and wonder at the hothothot male lead?

James Purefoy doesn't really feel that hot. In retrospect, I believe he was chaneling bits and pieces of a mix of characters; two, in fact, which I am very familiar with.

Aragorn, son of Arathorn from the Lord of the Rings, played by Viggo Mortensen, and Van Helsing, from Van Helsing, played by Hugh Jackman.

So essentially.

+

=
A bit of a poser kan?

So yeah. I think James Purefoy was just trying his darndest best to be those two, but fell just a little bit short. (To be honest, quite a long, long, LONG way from them)

But props for him being quite good at portraying pain. That's basically what most of the movie was about; blood, pain, gore, and of course, redemption.

And zombies. And as we all know, every movie with zombies is a good thing. Apparently.

Seriously, though, this movie seems to me to be a mixture of just about every other horror/supernatural/gore thing. Van Helsing. Diablo II (the game, you guys). Blood. Gore. Guts, woohoo!

...I give it a 5/10, and that may be me being kind. Give it a try, though, if you're interested. It's good for a one-time viewing, I suppose, and if you can get past the sub-par acting and dodgy CGI effects, you may be able to discern the plotline from the rest of the film's other less glorious aspects.

If It Ain't The Phone...

2010-03-08T22:47:00.003+08:00

...it's the landlady. Guess who didn't pay our utilities bill, and guess which house is without electricity tonight.

Guess who's living with Leanna tonight, also.

I wonder what that cow is doing with all our rent money, yeesh.

So I found my way to the Digital Mall in PJ, and got my phone fixed for RM 120, dear GOD that's expensive. But at least I got it done in an hour. I swear, this is pretty much what happened.

1) Circled the Digital Mall area looking for a park for about half an hour. V. irritating.
2) Found a park RIGHT in front of the mall. Walked in and chatted to UNICEF people for some minutes.
3) Went to the Sony Ericsson counter where I was told that I'd have to leave my phone with them for FOUR days so they could figure out what price to quote me. Mind you, that reads, "Leave your phone with us for four days so we can figure out how much to stiff you for."
4) Decided that working your womanly charms are SO worth it especially if you have just been snubbed by bitchy women at Sony Ericsson counters.
5) Giggled inwardly at how flustered man at other repair counter was when asked about repairs, and thanked God when he said that it could be fixed in 1 hour.
6) Went to bank to get cash, went to McD's to get coke, sat in car for 45 minutes listening to music and waiting.
7) Got phone back. It is now in perfect working condition.
8) Drove to 1-U because there is no electricity at home, therefore, no fan + heat + no internet + no laptop + no lights. Bought a ticket at TGV cinemas for Solomon Kane (review pending).
9) Drove to Rawang to stay with Leanna. And here I am.

Damn this all to heck. Why do things never flow smoothly? Bah humbug.

At least Leanna's mom roasted chicken for dinner. Chicken was yummy. Silver lining, mmm. <3

Movie Review: Alice in Wunnerland

2010-03-08T04:35:00.003+08:00

So. Johnny Depp. Alice in Wonderland. The first person to tell me I spelt it wrong in my title gets a slipper-in-face, comprende?

Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham Carter, Tim Burton's favourites, have outdone themselves yet again. Thrown into the mix of cast members this time are some of -my- favourites; Anne Hathaway and Alan Rickman as the voice of the blue caterpillar.

And can I just say for the record, that I think I am totally and completely bonkers. Then again, all the best people are, so I suppose that makes me feel a little better.

So, Johnny Depp.

Can someone tell me, in the simplest terms possible, why all of us are so bonkers over him? He's so... well, not dreamy the way McDreamy is, but he has an air of... mad-hatter-ness that makes us all swoon like flies at his feet.

When he had scissors for hands, I wanted to do nasty things to him.
When he looked dirty enough for me to imagine how he smelt, I wanted to do nasty things to him.
When he was a deranged murderer who cooked humans into pies, I wanted to do nasty things to him.

AND NOW, when he's got crazy red mad-hatter makeup, I STILL want to do nasty things to him!

I swear it's the female perspective talking.

So the story starts off the usual way; Alice finds a rabbit-hole and drops into it, drinks and eats to grow bigger and smaller. Boy, is she gonna have some stretch-marks if she keeps that up.

As the story progresses, the characters and plot darkens, and we are shown the ever-familiar touch of Tim Burton quirkiness. Don't get me wrong, I lovedlovedloved it, and Danny Elfman's soundtrack proved a wonderful accompaniment for the stunning visuals. I especially loved how this was so very obviously not the usual original take of the Alice in Wonderland classic. It's different and it's new, and that, at the end of the day, is perfect.

The costumes, as I am likely to notice, as always, were beautifully made. I especially loved Alice's second gown, and Margeret's blue one, as well as the white queen's outfit. I'd fall down the rabbit hole and change my name to Alice if I could get the Hatter to sew me up something. I ALSO REALLY loved that Alice's clothes did not shrink or expand WITH her. That is physically nonsensical, good grief.

I'm just saying, if anything at all, watch the movie for its sheer Johnny Depp goodness, and for the pretty, pretty visuals and soundtrack. I am definitely going to watch it again.

Lastly: Chesire Cat? SO adorable. I want one.

Stupid Dead Phone - Take II

2010-03-08T04:32:00.002+08:00

My stupid dead phone dieded again. If I thought it was bad before, it just got worse. The little green button, essentially, the 'call' button, simply refuses to work, and there is absolutely no way for me to hit 'call', since whichever button on top of it dieded too.

I've got to go to the IT mall later. Couz drew me a map, and hopefully I don't get lost on the way there. I'm pretty sure I will, but eh. If I don't get this fixed, I will be trapped irrevocably in a bad mood. Fu--

--yeah.

Stupid Dead Phone

2010-03-07T10:55:00.002+08:00

My stupid dead phone is dead. Or it is at least heading that way.

The 'c' key just absolutely refuses to work! And that is one of the more important keys, TBQH. In my opinion, anyway.

So here I am, wondering what the sod I am to do. Should I be repairing it, and in which case, WHERE do I repair it? Or should I just throw in the towel and get a new phone? It's been two years, after all. May be time for it to die-die.

But DAMN, I loved this phone. Ugh.

Moving on.

I don't think I've done anything reasonably interesting or even remotely fun in the past few days, but a couple of things have popped into mind.

1) I'm quite fluent in 'crap'. As it turns out, I speak crap a lot better than I imagined I would.
2) Chicken tastes the same if you marinate it 5 hours before cooking/15 minutes before cooking.
3) I am cooking Jamie Oliver's whitefish recipe this Monday.
4) Johnny Depp in Alice in Wonderland tonight!
5) When your favourite RPG becomes more of a hassle than it is fun, it's obviously time to re-think your priorities.

And that is all for now.

Roast Chicken Envy

2010-03-05T19:11:00.006+08:00

So, have you ever had that feeling where you're watching a movie, and someone pulls something unbelievably delicious-looking from an oven, and it's a big hunk of roast -something-? Then you start to wonder to yourself, "I wonder if I could make that.", or, "I wonder if mine would taste as good as that if I made it."?

Try having that feeling a million and one times, and you will be where I am right now. I am in this state of place where I absolutely enjoy every minute I spend cooking. I have been cooking a lot this year, making things that I have never made before, and expanding the horizons of my non-existent recipe-book.

And so, on Monday, just four days ago, I decided to cook this.

Roasted Rosemary and Lemon Chicken.

Quite a big reach for someone who had absolutely zero experience with roasting chicken, much less anything else, but I was determined, and I was ready. I'd been cooking simple things far too long, and I wanted to give it a try.

And so I bought the ingredients. Kampung chicken, which is basically a village chicken that has been allowed to roam free its entire life. Small, but 2 pounds in weight, which is what the recipe specified. Brought it home along with the rest of my ingredients. The couz was coming over for dinner, and I had decided to make my roast-potatoes-and-carrots with basil to accompany the chicken.

I also made my best investment of the month: Spending RM 15+ on a 500ml bottle of extra-virgin olive oil. Best. Decision. Ever.

Seriously. Olive oil is not only healthy and yummy, you feel absolutely zero qualms about cooking your pasta with it. And at the end of the day, if you want...

..use it as massage oil. Have you ever heard of another oil with so many uses? (If you have, don't tell me. I rather like thinking of olive oil as my supreme favourite oil)

So I washed my little chicken and added salt and pepper. Preparing it without freaking out was quite hard at this point, because... well, I had this mentality that first-time-chicken-roasts did not turn out well. Nonetheless, I got everything readied and good to go.

I think my moment of revelation came when I was frying the garlic and rosemary needles in butter and olive oil. I leaned over to smell it, and I was in love. At that precise moment, I was like Julia Child in my own right.

I took a couple of photos when I stuffed the chicken, but I realised it was likely quite the worst thing in the world to do. I mean, I was literally photographing up a chicken's arse, here. Not exactly the kindest of things to do to something you are about to roast and devour.

But if you can see it, there is lemon, a sprig of rosemary, and fried garlic cloves in there.

Skip a few hours and I pull the chicken from the oven. She's the most beautiful chicken in the world. She smells great, and she's just right; crisp skinned, and tender-fleshed. If I were into women and beastiality, she would've been the ONE for me.

The potatoes and carrots turned out very well this time. I was careful to not OD on salt this time around, so that it didn't taste as horribly salty as it did when I made it with my porkchops that one time. Unfortunately, I was later told that my couz was not into potatoes. So she ate the carrots and I took the potatoes. Good partnership, that one.

The table was set hastily, and we set about cutting the chicken up. I'd cut up celery slices, but the couz was not into those, too. I swear I am not a health nut; I just like the taste of celery. Couz had brought along this peach drink thing under the brand name Bundaberg, which I quite liked.

The chicken itself had good flavour. I liked the zesty lemon-and-rosemary taste of it, and was very glad to know that I had not OD'd on salt for it, either. The flesh was -really- tender, but not too fat, for which I am glad I purchased the kampung chicken. (Chickens that are allowed to run free have thinner legs!)

The sauce wasn't too great, but eh, I didn't make -that- according to instructions, so maybe that is my fault. All in all, I think I did a pretty good job roasting my very first chicken.

Though I did think that my friend Lou's comment on how I should just quit college and start a restaurant was very funny. Hahahaha, mom would SO hate it, but that is only because she hasn't tasted the chicken.

Next up! Jamie Oliver's recipe for whitefish wrapped in streaky bacon!

Belated Early V-Day Post

2010-02-17T20:50:00.005+08:00

He sent me something again this year. But because Chinese New Year and Valentine's Day co-incides with one another this year, he got me a Chinese New Year Hamper with cherry blossoms twilled about the edge of the basket.

How much more could a girl ask for, beyond this sweet and loving fellow? Who isn't even really her fellow to hold and love?

What do you call this kind of relationship? An open relationship?

No. It's more than that. He's a... he's someone I care very deeply for, on an emotional level. He's someone I can say with great conviction that I love. Very, very much.

He's my knight in tinfoil. He's the Kaigen to my Corrine. He's the one, even if I don't end up with him in the finale of my life.

Thanks, Danny Habes. I love you.

My Valentine's Day

2010-02-01T18:03:00.003+08:00

This is a blog post for Nuffnang's Valentine's Day premiere. The cast of Valentine's Day is wunnerful, of course, but I am, as always, the girl with the hots for McDreamy. Patrick Dempsey's my guy, all the way.

Really. Who can resist those eyes? That hair?

An Ode to Patrick Dempsey, Mr McDreamy, himself:

Come Valentine's Day, the 14th this February,
I'll waste away my student's salary.

To the U-S of A, I'll surely fly away,
If only to celebrate this crazy, over-hyped day.

Assuming my date's the beautiful Patrick Dempsey,
The one and only, the fabulous McDreamy,

I'll toss away tradition and culture,
Braving both the wrath of my aunt, and my mother.

For Valentine's Day, with Chinese New Year clashes,
A date with Patrick, or family meshes?

If I'd had a brain, which I most certainly do,
I'd choose the former, and you would most definitely, too.

So I'd fly away on that jetplane of mine,
To meet this beautiful man, who's ever so divine.

We'd meet at the airport; he'll carry a bouquet,
We'll jump into the limo, and head for the bay.

He'd have candle-lit dinner, ready at the call,
The beach will be decked out, as if there were a ball.

All throughout dinner, we'd disregard the memory of his wife,
Thinking of his children would only cause strife.

Then he'd whisk me in his arms, and we'd dance a lovely dance,
Every other girl would kill for this chance.

And at the end of the night, when the stars are all bright,
He'd hold me close, and all I'd see is light.

And just as our lips are close enough to graze...

...I awaken from the dream, and I curse, in my daze.

Because, really, a date with Patrick Dempsey is SO impossible, haha. But he's McDreamy. Worth a try.

PLUS, MCSTEAMY, ALSO. OMG, BOTH yummy MC's in ONE film. Heart palpitations.

Gimme the tickets, Nuffnang. I love you long long time if you doooo~

For Sandra Wong, 21st November 1988 - 14th January 2010

2010-01-20T18:56:00.003+08:00

My darling Sandra.

Today's the 20th of January. It's been six days, and I have yet to come to terms with the fact that you're gone. The sound of it, the way it rolls off my tongue, I cannot comprehend it. I cannot say the words, and believe them.

Sandra's accident. Sandra's body. Sandra's funeral.

The concept of those words are so foreign to me, I can't understand them. I can't accept it, because it feels so strange, like it's not real. I've been walking in a world of nightmares these past six days, because everywhere I look, everywhere I turn, something feels wrong. I don't feel good.

Something is missing.

You are missing.

I keep thinking of beautiful words to say to you, but I know you'll hear them long before my brain computes them properly. I miss you. Everything reminds me of you.

I jump on the bus and all I can think of is how I used to see you walk past my car in your umbrella on your way home after class.

I put on makeup in the morning and all I can remember is you telling me that we'll definitely be going for the L'Oreal Warehouse sale again next year.

I listen to Sink or Swim by Tyrone Wells, and I'm reminded of how you pointed out that you liked that song in my car.

I can't even think of sushi without thinking of how hard we were laughing that one night in Sushi King.

Sandra, I miss you. You were just so... bright, and you were genuine. You saw the world for all its good, and the bad stuff just bounced off you. You're one of the most beautiful people I've ever met, inside and out.

This is not goodbye. Not yet, not now. You live on in spirit and in my memories, and I know you'll drop by from time to time to let me know that, wherever you are, you're still thinking about us.

Just as I'll think of you, every day. Thank you for granting me this great honour.

Thank you for being my friend, for being our Sandra.

Much love,
Emmy

So, Egg Poaching?

2010-01-05T19:23:00.005+08:00

Today, I poached a perfect egg, and let me tell you, it's not as easy as it looks. They tell you to buy fresh eggs, and they tell you to crack it gently into a bowl. They also tell you to tip the egg carefully into a pot of piping hot water.

They don't say squat about what to do if the egg yolk breaks when you're cracking it into the small bowl.

I managed to salvage that egg, of course, but the fact remains that I managed, at long last, to poach a beautiful egg.

Things to remember for poaching:
1) Fresh eggs. FRESH EGGS.
2) Crack egg into bowl, first. Do NOT crack egg straight into the pot of water.
3) If it starts to look icky, remember that people in certain parts of the country eat worse things. Don't waste it; suck it all in and eat the egg.
4) Switch the fire off and cover it. If you leave the fire on, the water will continue to boil and the bubbles will cause the egg to spread all over. You don't want that.

If you're lucky, and if you'd prayed hard enough, your egg will turn out looking like this.

Voila! A petite and fluffy little white poached egg! Pouf!

...I suck at being French, but yes, moving on.

So I set the egg on top of a piece of pre-toasted ham-on-bread, toasted it a little bit more, and added a dash of a really simple sauce-like thing made entirely out of minced basil and garlic. It was as good an early dinner as any, and healthy, too, since... well, poached eggs = less fat, yes?

It would've been the perfect light dinner, except...

...I drank Coke. Talk about watching myself, ha! It's a good thing I'd taken a swim earlier in the day. I smell like chlorine. Chlorine and poached eggs. What kind of a combination is that, again?

I am now at a lost, and have absolutely no idea what I'm going to cook tomorrow. Maybe I'll bake something from Pilsbury. I'm itching to use the oven again, but that'll mean I'd have to pop by Jaya to get the ingredients.

I'll sit on it for the night.

On a completely unrelated note: I finished off Season 1 of Grey's Anatomy in between working out my loan details. I am going to owe Eddy so much after this 3% to 1% interest rate thing is settled.

Maybe I'll just cook him something.

2010: Cooking, Cooking, Cooking.

2010-01-04T22:51:00.006+08:00

Post-first-night back in KL and the first thing I can think of is to run to Jaya Grocer. For those of you who are not in the know, Jaya Grocer is my pseudo-boyfriend. A grocery shop. That's right, you're reading correctly. I have entered into a willing relationship with a grocery shop, and I intend to marry it as soon as it becomes legal. Shall I explain why?

Jaya Grocer is always dependable. Not only does it satisfy my every grocery desire by stocking things that you absolutely cannot find anywhere else, it is right behind my apartment complex. It makes me happy; no man has ever made me as happy as I am, when I am walking down the aisles of Jaya Grocer, smelling Fuji Apples and picking out basil leaves. I'm serious. Jaya Grocer is AMAZING.

...the only downside to this is that Jaya Grocer cheats on me with just about every other woman who shops there. But hey, it's perfect in every other way.

And yes, I am aware that Jaya Grocer is, in fact, a grocery shop and nothing more.

So today, I was once again welcomed through the beautiful sliding doors of my favourite place in the world, and instantly set to picking out my regular groceries. Milk. Pasta. Basil leaves. Bread. Ham.

And then I found a box of tandoori mix. And so it began: the mad dash to gather ingredients that would be required to cook tandoori chicken. Chicken, of course. Lime. Yoghurt. And all that. I skipped out on some ingredients, but the end result was no less amazing that I had hoped for. I invited che over for dinner; and I'd also made a salad that I'd only ever tasted in Sharyl's place, as well as some tea.

The end result?

Which inadvertently ended up with two happy, well-fed women. We also decided that we were going to cook a lot more this year.

Yep. 2010. The year of good food.

The year of fats. Bring it on; I've got a pool and I'm not afraid to use it.

For what it's worth, I think it's going to be awesome.

AWESOME.

Turning 21 on the 21st

2009-11-26T09:21:00.002+08:00

So, I know this is long overdue, seeing as to how my birthday was over half a week ago, but I thought I'd throw it in.

You guys are awesome. Each and every one of you who took the time and effort to wish me, thank you. I'm officially an adult, and for what it's worth, I think it's going to be brilliant!

So what'd I do on the day in question? Here's a short summary, since... well, it's quite a bit.

i) Yes, I woke up and played NWA. I'm that much of a dork.
ii) Had lunch at home, since mom cooked for me. White radish soup and uh. Chicken stew?
iii) Went out with Sharyl, Shong, and Lou, hung out in Padini, ran into a certain ex and found closure.
iv) Bought some stuff at Nichii! <3
v) Went for 'tea' at Chili's, and ended up getting sung a birthday song by the Chili's folk. Wanted to run, but wasn't allowed to, as realised there was a wall next to me.
vi) Went for more shopping after Lou had left; bought fluffy sponge ball rollers for my hair.
vii) Went out for dinner with Sharyl at my favourite Indian spot, Anandabhawans. Hello, tandoori.

All in all, I would say, quite a satisfactory birthday. I didn't end up getting plastered, which is a lot more than I could've even hoped for. Thank God, thank God, thank GOD.

Wow, I'm twenty-one. And you are too, Sandra~Happy birthday!

(Sandra is my half-quarter-other-mother-twin. She was born on exactly the same day. 8D)

People Watching is Good For Winding Down.

2009-10-08T17:41:00.003+08:00

The generally stressed displacement of my current lifestyle aside, I've come to realise that I really do need some sit-down alone, drink-coffee and contemplate life time. I've been so busy with my assignments and whatnot lately that this--that is to say, my current disposition--can really be considered a good thing.

So Mandy came down to KL this morning, and the three of us, her, me, and Che are gonna drive back to Penang later.

I say later because, as I type this out, they are both getting pedicures. Hahaha.

I've never been much of a pedicure person, to be honest. I joke about giving Phyl pedicures a lot of the time, but the idea of people touching my feet with sharp pointy things freaks me out a bit.

Or it could be that Phyl's perception of pedicures has spread somewhat to me.

In between my PR writing class, in which I turned in a quiz and an in-class assignment, and driving back to Penang, I find myself here at Starbucks--The Gardens, doing absolutely nothing of importance other than to people watch.

One of the things I wonder most about in my life is whether or not I have ever been the source of entertainment for someone as they people-watched. Have I ever been laughed at, pointed at, looked disdainfully at? Obviously, yes. The point, however, is that I don't realise it at those specific moments in time. Even now, I can't be sure if there are people people-watching me, as I am people-watching others.

To be fair, there are a lot of better things for one to do in Starbucks. I could, for one, concentrate on my assignment, as I am supposed to do. I could surf the internet. (Barring the fact that, really, my Caramel Macchiato was bought in PBD and NOT The Gardens' Starbucks) I could even just sit around and admire the general scenery of the place.

But people watching is just too much damn fun.

For instance. There is a couple seated a table to my left. They're not actually patrons of Starbucks; I don't see their cups, at any rate. They are, however, pretty darn cute when put together. He leans over to whisper in her ear as she types in her laptop, and she's giggling right about now. They look very happy together. Huddled together in a world of their own, without regard for others (like me, ha!) who have nothing better to do than to intrude upon their privacy by occasionally slanting my gaze over.

How would I describe them? In one word?

I would say, 'carefree'.

Then there are the girls who are seated one table away from the happy couple. Drinks upon their table, and a macbook propped open. Friends, or sisters, I should think. Out for a day of relaxation and rest, or suckered into a situation where they have no internet. (Much like I was, many moons ago.) Ten bucks says they're checking their Facebook pages.

How would I describe -them-? I can't do it in one word this time; there is a phrase for it.

'Living the high life.'

And then there is the old woman, in the bright-orange and pink sari, so beautifully draped in the Gujerati style, who walked past us all. She stares straight ahead, intent upon her destination. Perhaps her children, now grown, have brought her out for a day of shopping. Perhaps what she really wants is to be home, cooking the night's tandoori for dinner. Perhaps she's enjoying herself. I watch her for mere seconds, and I cannot gauge her person. But I can try, and by doing so, I find myself imagining her life. It amuses me somewhat.

Lastly, there is the guy who walked past, carrying two jars of... stuff in his arms. Wearing a backpack. Again, intent upon his destination. Possibly laughing inwardly at the fact that he's walking around with two jars, and wondering if others are sharing in his inward laughter. Flushing hotly at the fact and wishing no-one would find his jars of stuff an oddity.

Do any of them stop to smell the roses? Are they watching others, as others are invariably watching them? Everyone is intent upon their own lives, their own persons. I am intent upon my blog-entry. (Which I am certain makes no actual sense at all)

I do suppose that my long ramble can serve quite a number of purposes.

- To spread the love of people-watching.
- To question the hectic lifestyle of people in general.

The cutest thing I have seen thus far, though, is this.

A man, well-aged. A young boy, presumably his grandson, clutching his arm as they both walk past. A big, brightly-coloured plastic bag in his hands. I could assume that it was a gift. Indeed, I want to; the imagery is so colourful and happy, then.

People-watch, people. It opens your eyes to things you never really see.

And on that note, it's back to my assignment for me!

The Five Stages of Grief

2009-10-05T16:52:00.002+08:00

According to Elizabeth Kubler-Ross, when we are dying, or have suffered a catastrophic loss, we all move through five distinct stages of grief. We go into denial, because the loss is so unthinkable, we can't imagine it's true. We become angry with everyone; angry with survivors, angry with ourselves--then we bargain. We beg, we plead--we offer everything we have. We offer up our souls in exchange for just one more day. When the bargaining has failed, and the anger is too hard to maintain, we fall into depression, despair, until finally, we have to accept that we have done everything we can. We let go. We let go and move into acceptance.

--taken from Grey's Anatomy, Season 6, Episode 1: Good Mourning

Grief comes in many forms. In our lives, we have lost those who'd mattered to us, to death, to disease, to arguments, to quarrels, and to the very simple, yet exceedingly sad phenomena known to us as, 'drifting apart'.

I am one of the fortunate few to have kept, to this very day, the very same friends that I have loved since high school. I have my girls, and they are my support system. They pick me up when I fall, and they cry when I cry. They're my best friends, my sisters, and they have contributed an untold amount of what has shaped me into the person that I am today.

They have contributed in the form of love.

How do we deal with grief when our friends leave us? Education is a matter of importance; you cannot begrudge them their chances to spread their wings and fly. You encourage it, in fact. You hide the needles in your heart, and you cheer for the fact that they will be successful, that they are successful. You hide the pain as you watch them walk past that barrier at the airport, until at last, you can't hide it anymore, and the feelings, kept for so long in that locked little box at the corner of your mind, burst forth and swallow you whole.

You can't hide the pain then, and so you fall apart.

I love you so much, Sharyl, and I don't know what I'm going to do when you leave. I can't promise that I can be strong in your absence; you're my rock, and you've always been there for me. The closest reference I can draw to what I feel for you, is what I feel for my sister, and she is the person that I love the most in the whole world.

My heart sank. It literally sank when I read your facebook message. I'm afraid of November. I'm afraid of waking up on my 21st birthday and finding that you're not here to celebrate it with me. I'm afraid of losing this part of me that I hold so dear, and I'm afraid of going back to Penang and knowing that you won't be there, that you won't answer when I ask you out for ice-cream.

I'm so afraid to lose you, but you have to go.

The box is opened, and I'm at grief now. I've got one more month to reach acceptance, and I don't know if I can.

I love you, my best friend.

Movie Review: Up

2009-08-23T15:35:00.005+08:00

I -loved- Up. LOVED it. I'm throwing in a full 5/5 for it, because Disney and Pixar has totally, completely sucked me dry of tears with this movie. (I bawled, therefore, no more tears, see? Laugh, people, LAUGH.)

I was pleasantly surprised at the beginning of the film, to see the short film that they'd aired in true Pixar fashion. (something about cloud-beings that made babies/fuzzy cute things/fun stuff with lightning and puffs of clouds, which were then delivered to people down in a suburb town.)

I giggled as the storks swept in. Made a girly d'awww when kittens were dropped at a door. Another, when a baby was dropped. Laughed at the ingenuity of it all when the storks swooped to the clouds to retrieve other things to deliver.

The short made me think that friendship is perhaps one of the most beautiful things in the world. No matter how much your friend hurts you, you come back; because at the end of the day, it's your friend. Watch that short; it'll make you giggle and cry all at the same time.

Twenty minutes into Up, I was bawling like a baby. Carl Fredrickson and Ellie Fredrickson are perhaps two of the sweetest couples I've seen on the big-screen in a long, long time. That she'd died, and left him her 'adventure book', was something so touching, that it made me want to cry again and again, and again. They were loving; they had each other.

I want to find a Carl Fredrickson of my own, and I want to grow old with him the way Ellie grew old with hers.

Even the biggest bunch of misfits can fit together if there's love all around.

I could understand little Russell's determination and pain to hang onto his female-with-a-male-name-pet bird. Here's a little boy, very happy outside, but you know he has his problems. Like Carl, he's missing something in his life, and he's lonely. The journey that they take together not only makes them stronger within, it gives them hope, and it gives them each other.

Does anyone else realise that Carl no longer needs his cane by the middle of the movie? Once again, Disney sends us subliminal messages through this tiny little detail.

Have the adventure you've always wanted, no matter how old, or how young you are. Live on life, and every day will be the best day you've ever had. They all certainly look happy up there.

All in all, I have to say, that Up was possibly one of THE best movies I've seen this year. It made me laugh and cry, it made me want to watch it again and again and again.

My parting words are these.

"I hid under your porch because I love you." - Dug, Up

Ain't life simple in the head of a dog? ;)

Good boy, Dug. We all love you too.

P/S - Is it just me, or does Alpha's voice sound like Foamy the Neurotic Squirrel?

The Singapore Diaries: The Final Stretch Home

2009-08-23T15:07:00.003+08:00

This is WAY long overdue, but I had some thoughts to share on my last day--well, morning, rather, in Singapore. To recap:

Day 1, 23rd July, Thursday:
- Arrive in Singapore

Day 2, 24th July, Friday:
- Cooked dinner

Day 3, 25th July, Saturday:
- The ZONE. 8D

Day 4, 26th July, Sunday:
- Church, listened to Pastor Judah Smith, CHEESE. <3
- Rollerblading with Snuffpeet and Snuffpeet's housemates.

Day 5, 27th July, Monday:
- Home-bound.

So. I got to the airport early in the morning; my flight had been delayed to 10:30 AM, so I had to take the cab there by myself, as Snuffpeet had to work. Decidedly held my breath all the way there, as I was coughing and didn't want driver to freak out. H1N1 scares are so annoying.

The airport wasn't quite full per-se, but there were a lot of people wearing face-masks, as if it would protect them from all the H1N1 scares. I was, admittedly, held with the overwhelming urge to sneeze in one of their faces, but I was afraid I'd get arrested; it was Singapore, after all.

So, in the waiting room, as I sat staring out of the window at the plane which was to carry me back to Penang, I realised one thing.

The plane looks like my seal. Hello, plane. Hello, Andre.

It took a little while for me to get over the hilarity of the situation. Planes are cuter than ever now, and all because I can attach my stinky, eleven-year-old stuffed seal to their images. XD

I landed in Penang around 12, and sat around in McD's with my laptop waiting for dad to get here. Then I went home, slept, and woke up with a horrible fever, flu, and cough.

A month later, in retrospect, I have to say, it would've been pretty damn scary if I hadn't been so sure that God was there for me there and then. HOWEVER, the doctor says it's not H1N1, and that it's just due to the hazy weather that's been going around like mad lately.

At any rate, I'm not dead yet. So, QED, it's not H1N1. Huzzah!

The Singapore Diaries: The Zone 2009

2009-08-06T21:55:00.003+08:00

Okay, this is way, WAY overdue. (Considering how all this happened two weeks ago. ._.)

Okay. So. The Zone.

My goody bag, consisting of a scribble notepad (with colourful sticky notes), a pen, my ticket, and two glow-sticks for the concert!

Happened on Saturday, the 25th of July, 2009.

Hillsong United had a concert, and Pastor Judah Smith came over from Seattle to preach.

Suffice to say, it was the single most amazing experience of my life.

Singapore has been an awakening for me. A renewal of faith. It was through this conference that I finally found the connection I'd always wanted with our Holy Father. I found God, and I let him in at last.

It was an amazing experience, that wasn't limited to just the sheer AWESOME that was Hillsong United. I could feel the presence of God in that place, that had absolutely nothing to do with the sheer intensity of the crowd. It felt like home.

I let loose, like I never had before. :)

I can't really remember what Hillsong United played, but I was pretty certain about two of the singers who were there. Joel Houston, Jad Gillies.

...I don't know who the lady was, but her voice was beautiful, and there was another fellow who was given solos, also, but I have NO idea who he is. ._.

But yes. What I -do- remember is that they started with 'Freedom is Here', and I was sold.

Because, really, that song? That opening? THAT BEAUTIFUL OPENING RIFT, OMG. Yes. The second I heard that song, I was SOLD SOLD SOLD.

Other songs that were played included 'Tear Down the Walls' (which is AMAZING), 'Desert Song', 'Your Name High', 'The Stand', 'Yours Forever', 'You Hold Me Now', 'From the Inside Out', 'Solution', 'One Way', and some others I can't remember. I would've taken count, of the titles, but really, I was there for the EXPERIENCE, and it was BRILLIANT.

I had a moment of wanting to cry when they started to play 'Hossana'. That is ultimately my FAVOURITE Hillsong song; it's beautiful. Hearing it live was possibly one of the best things in this world, and is comparable to even the yummiest sushi in the world.

I had ANOTHER moment of wanting to cry when they played 'All I Need is You' RIGHT after Hossana. I mean, COME ON. TWO of my favourite songs. ._. In a row.

Pastor Judah Smith was just an explosion of AWESOME, also.

On a deeper level, though, besides his funny quirks and his amusing witticisms, what he preaches makes a lot of sense, and I'm glad I got to listen to him twice. (Including in New Creation when I went for service the next day, HA!)

I want to move to Seattle to listen to him preach every week. XD

But yeah. I really -do- feel enlightened, having been blessed with his messages. I literally, just felt like a new person after leaving that hall, and it hasn't changed. I'm very happy about this. Exceedingly. Like, up in the clouds, knocked in the head happy.

And this, too, shall last! I shall now go and listen to Pastor Judah Smith's sermons online! *runs off*

The Singapore Diaries: Day II

2009-07-31T23:23:00.003+08:00

To be fair, nothing happened on day II of my visit. Absolutely NOTHING of any consequence, at least for me.

Things that I did.

Woke up in the morning, and went out to shop for ingredients with Snuffpeet at the market; had a good breakfast/brunch of roasted duck and roasted pork rice, and then went back to the house.

Snuffpeet had to work; while she was at work, I rotated between my lappie-top and the kitchen to cook dinner for the Snuffpeet's housemates and... yeah. Dinner for all. 8D

I did not take any pictures, but no one died eating my dishes, thank you very much. I made!

Potato + Carrot + Chicken soup
Pork patties with Basil and Garlic
Eggs fried with Onion
Cabbage cooked with Carrot slivers and Dried Prawns

Yes, everyone enjoyed dinner. Yes, I enjoyed -cooking- dinner. No, I did not wash. 8D

We watched Sense and Sensibility after dinner. I HAD NO IDEA HUGH LAURIE WAS IN IT.

Ohmai, Hugh Laurie goodness~!

All in all, it was a pretty... homey, yet satisfying day. 8D

The Singapore Diaries: Day I

2009-07-31T16:19:00.007+08:00

Obviously I'm back in Penang as I write this, but if I had to fit in four days' worth of stuff in ONE entry, you guys would hate my guts. XD So here goes!

Day 1 was Thursday, the 23rd of July, 2009.

I arrived in Singapore in the wee hours of the morning, having spent the previous night watching all forms of movies on the bus. I swear, Konsortium's choice of movies for their snoozer buses are getting better and better. Among the movies I saw and loved:

1) Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian (Re-watched)
2) IRON MAN, DUM DUM DUMMMMM! (Yes, I rewatched it)
3) Kung-Fu Panda! (MASTER OO-GUAY! 8D)

Ahem. So, upon reaching Beach Road, I grabbed a cab and made my way over to my Snuffpeet (Read: My sister)'s apartment. We got breakfast, yummy, yummy noodles, from the market opposite her house, ate, and then I napped while she read her newspaper.

And played Bejewelled, because it is oh-so-addictive.

After my little nap, we headed out for lunch at Swensons.

Yeah, lunch at Swensons. Whoever knew they didn't just sell ice-cream there?

Snuffpeet had her black-pepper pasta, while I ordered a beef lasagna.

The best lasagna I have ever tasted. Unlike any other lasagna in the world.

I mean, c'mon, whoever thought to insert chopped spinach in between the layers of cheese is a GENIUS. The bloody thing tasted SO good. SO good.

Heehee, Snuffpeet also ordered an apple-crumble to share, so, understandably, we left there a little wider in girth.

After lunch, we took the train downtown, and walked a bit across Raffles Hotel to a small mall where Snuffpeet bought me my new bible. I have to admit, it took even me by surprise that I'd have wanted a bible for my birthday this year; I'm turning twenty one, but... eh, significant number, significant gift. I love my bible.

THANKS, SNUFFPEET. I LOVE YOU! <3

After browsing around the shop for a bit, we decidedly took the cab to East Coast Park's McDonald's, where I discovered the double-standards of McDonald's Singapore and McDonald's Malaysia.

Observe, if you will.

In Singapore, they have McCafe. In Malaysia, we have... road-side kopi-o.

In Singapore, in McCafe, they make little kitties and tropical trees in your coffee. In Malaysia, you'd be lucky if you don't find a bug in your coffee.

In Singapore, McDonald's has MCWINGS! OH MY GOD SO YUMMY. AND THEIR CHILLI SAUCE IS THE KIND WITH GARLIC IN IT OKAY.

Yes. I just raged about how unfair it is that Singapore's McDonald's is so much more awesome than Malaysia's. THIS is how you know I'm from Penang. XD

After we ate, we went into the park, where I cycled. Yes, very atheletic of me. It was fun, though, and I throughly enjoyed it. 8D

...my butt did ache something fierce afterwards, though. ._.

Uh. After East Coast Park, we took the bus home, showered, and then went off to Ang Mo Kio Hub to catch our movie. We had Mos Burgers for dinner, and I am now throughly in love with the concept of a bunch of unagi wrapped in buns of ACTUAL RICE GRAINS.

Yes. Very interesting. We saw Harry Potter again. 8D

...and then we went home and slept the night away. Whee.

Camwhoring: What NOT to do.

2009-07-21T14:36:00.003+08:00

Technology has made it simple for everyone to take a picture. Do you remember the old, old cameras of long ago, when taking photographs required a roll of film and AA batteries? Thinking back, I recall why I hated photographs then. Not only does it cost a LOT to take pictures, you have no CHOICE once the picture's been taken.

For example. You want a picture of yourself. So go to the shops, buy a roll of film. You stick the film in your camera. Then you discover the camera has no batteries. So you buy two AA batteries and stick those into the camera. Then you aim, pose, and click. However, you won't instantly know if the picture is a win or fail. So you bring the role of film to be developed.

And then, upon collecting your photographs, you discover.

...they all look awful.

This is where the age of digital technology comes in. No longer do we wait days and pay hard-earned cash to develop pictures where we look like mammoths. (It is a widely known fact that you put on 10 pounds in pictures, anyway. ._.)

One click. One picture. If you dislike it, you can delete it. No harm, no foul.

Now that's where the problem sets in. Our current world is a very, very, VERY vain and materialistic world. We like taking pictures to show others that we're happy, that we look good, and that we have everything in the world that we want.

Unfortunately, some of us seem to love ourselves and our appearances a lot more than we deserve.

This is where the concept of camwhoring and narcissism comes in. Shall I define them for you?

Camwhoring = A mixture of two words. Camera and whoring.

Camera =

Camwhore (taken from Encyclopedia Dramatica) = "A variety of attention whore, typically a young and very stupid woman (though occasionally a twink), who will do anything on a webcam in exchange for attention, money, items from online wishlists, or just to be generally slutty."

Ahem.

While I am of the opinion that photographs are good for the soul, and that a little camwhoring never hurt anybody, I am ALSO of the opinion that there are do's and don't's for it.

Number one.

If you're ugly, no amount of camwhoring is going to change it.

I personally believe that there is at least one good thing in each and every person. Sometimes, people are born with good looks, and sometimes they are not. Those with good looks are lacking in some areas, and those with... not-so-good-looks are not lacking. That's the way the world is; everything's fair.

Ahem.

I am one of those people who were not born with good looks. I have my vain-pot moments, of course. I take pictures, and I post them on my profile. Ha, camwhoring.

However, I also happen to have enough common-sense to know how much camwhoring a typical college-girl should indulge in. Even the most gorgeous of people can camwhore all they want, but if it is done in an extreme, people are likely to blanche at the excess of narcissism, and believe me, they WILL.

So, if drop-dead-model-like people are expected to keep their vain-pot, camwhoring moments to a minimum, it goes to say that people who are average and below average should be camwhoring much less. This is not the case.

Let's face facts. We're more likely to laugh at and ridicule camwhores (let's just name one for simplicity's sake; Sally Prue) who think they're awesomepowahgorgeous, than we are to laugh at supermodel camwhores. The fact is not going to change, no matter how many hundreds of pictures Sally Prue takes of herself to post on Facebook. In fact, Sally Prue's pictures serve only one purpose; to make other, more fortunate girls feel better about themselves.

Number two.

Even if you're pretty, try to keep the vanity to a minimum. Nobody likes a flaunty, narcissistic bitch.

This is pretty self-explainatory, actually. Mary Sue; gorgeous babe, blonde, comes from California. Camwhores a lot, in bikinis, and underwear, and whatnot. In bathrooms, in the bedroom, in shopping mall dressing rooms, whatever.

Fat chicks hate her, thin chicks think of her as competition, and all the boys want her. For all the wrong reasons. Too much attention is bad, neh?

Number three.

If you've been getting negative comments on your pictures since the beginning of time, STOP CAMWHORING, SALLY PRUE. STOP CAMWHORING. STOP CAMWHORING AND GO HOME.

Do not, under any circumstances, tell people things that suggest you're an airhead. Do not reply negative comments with stupid, narcissistic comments like these.

"Oh, you know you like it."
"You're just jealous."
"Vanity is necessary! Totally necessary!"
"I look so cute, oh, you KNOW you like it!"
"Oh, I'm so displeased that so few people like this! C'mon, you people!"

Yeah. Beautiful, aren't they? Of course, Sally Prue, being a vapid narcissist, will refute all nasty comments and respond with, "You know you like itttttttt."

Oh sweet lord. ._.

I actually -do- know someone who does that, by the way. I'm not naming names, but I really -do- think she looks like a literal ass. As in, butt. A tasteless, narcissistic, really, really annoying butt, who doesn't realise that if there were an 'unlike' button on Facebook, that she would have more than negative-1950 likes.

And, moving on, before I get spiteful.

Number 4.

Camwhore if you must have a camera popping a flash in your face, but please, for the love of God, DON'T UPLOAD THEM.

Again, pretty self-explainatory. Take a picture. Smile. Pose. Look snooty. Pout your lips. Try to look like Tyra Banks. Just don't, for heaven's sake, post them if they look horrible! You can always just save them in your harddrive for your own viewing purposes, if you like yourself so much.

So, in short.

Camwhore minimally, and only when you have something new to share. The world loves you better that way. Trust me on this one.

When at Home...

2009-07-19T14:43:00.002+08:00

Penang has always been a part of me. When I moved down to Kuala Lumpur to further my studies, I knew that Penang would always, always stay inside of me. Penang was in my mannerisms. In my thoughts. In my opinions. It was evident in the way I dressed and in the way I carried myself.

I am a true blue Island girl, and I can't be any prouder of the fact.

Nostalgia is a beautiful thing. It is when I am home that I remember exactly the things I have seen growing up in this wonderful place. I remember my schooling years. I remember the life I had when I was a child, living with my aunt and uncle, growing up with my friends.

Sometimes, in the big city, I forget these things. I forget that who I am is defined by where I come from.

Things like this shouldn't ever be forgotten.

After all, the people at home don't forget me.

I was at my aunt's place yesterday for my cousin's birthday. I walked in and everything's the same as it has been since I last visited. I had never truly appreciated just how much like home the place looked. I hugged and kissed my uncle. He hugged and kissed me back.

And I don't know why, but I felt like crying just then.

I remembered him lifting me as a toddler. Holding me by my hands as I took my first steps.

I remembered how, as a five year old, I'd watch as he'd come home from work for lunch. I'd watch him eat, and then, as he'd walked to the fridge to get his chilled coffee, I would waddle over towards him and pull on his pant legs. And he'd always, always give me a sip. Every single day.

I remembered my birthdays spent at my aunt's house. He'd bring me back a cake every single year without fail after work, and teddy bears. I still have them. I still remember.

Before I sat down to lunch, I went to get a drink of water. And sitting upon the cup racks was my cup. Exactly where I had left it when I stopped going to her place after school, more than five years ago.

She kept my cup.

I got nostalgic. I'm a sap. People in Penang don't forget. They remember.

It tells me to remember.

Sharyl turned 21 yesterday. Another case of nostalgia. We literally grew up together, all of us, and we're one by one, slowly blossoming. I spent all that time in her house and I remembered all the good times we had, and all the awesome memories we built together.

My home makes me nostalgic. Does yours?

Random Musings on Life

2009-07-17T13:52:00.003+08:00

Life is only as complicated as you make it out to be.

There is a verse in the book of Matthew in the Bible.

“Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?” (Matthew 6:25-26)

This does not come solely from my perspective of my god. It can apply to just about anyone who believes in a higher power. Life is not as complicated as we believe. The answers to our problems are more often than not, right in front of us, provided by God. It's just that we sometimes take to thinking things over again and again, that it really seems more grave than it really is.

It is in human nature to want to cling onto something more solid than mere faith. I can understand that--I am that way. First off, though, I shall set something straight.

When I say to have faith, I don't mean that faith itself will save you from your problems. There is no use bemoaning your failures and mulling over your bad luck. Your luck is what you make of it.

To put it simply.

If you can't afford that new Sony Ericsson you've ogled for months, think of the single mother who can't afford milk to feed her baby.
If you can't support yourself financially, think of the cripple who cannot find a job.
If you are hungry because your diet only allows one meal a day, think of the children who have never even heard of McDonald's.
If you can't afford to fuel your car, think of the scholarship student who takes two trains and one bus to school.
If you can't afford the new Green Day CD, think of the school in the slums where children bang on pots and pans to make their own music.
If you can't afford to buy the final Harry Potter novel, think of the boy who has to save a penny each day to afford a library card.
If you're crying over the end of your relationship, think of the widow who has just lost her husband of 48 years to cancer.
If you're depressed over your results, think of the girl whose parents cannot afford her a tertiary level education.

In short, if you work hard enough for something you want badly enough, who is to say that there isn't a higher power pushing you in the right direction? If those in conditions far worse than ours are living their lives, making it from day to day, who's to say we can't?

These are, of course, my own opinion on life. I don't pretend to know a lot on the matter at hand; I'm probably very likely to be depressed a lot for no reason at all. But my point is that, if they can be happy with so little, why can't I? Why do we all always, always, always want more than this? I'm not saying complacence is a good thing, but shouldn't we be thankful for what we have?

At the end of the day, that's what we should be. Thankful.

I'm thankful for my family. For my loved ones, and for my best, best, best friends.

Cheers, y'all. Kiss a puppy today. ;)

Teddy, from the SPCA. Adorable as always. 8D

Movie Review: Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince

2009-07-16T17:53:00.005+08:00

First thought of the movie: "OH MY GOD DO WANT DO WANT DO WANT."

I can solemnly swear that this movie is, in my humble opinion, THE best Harry Potter movie since the magical first-and-second. Not only have critics all over hailed it as such, *I* personally feel the exact same way; this was brilliantly rendered. I spazzed throughout the entire movie, and then some more when it ended.

...and as I watched them all on-screen, I felt a little surge of sadness. They're all grown up now, and they used to be adorable and tiny-voiced. I can't imagine Dan Radcliffe now; he used to be so teeny-tiny and squeaky!

And for what it's worth, Emma Watson DID grow up really well. She's all kinds of gorgeous, really. Performance-wise, her acting's improved dramatically since the last movie. No longer is she the breathy, can't-catch-my-breath girl; she's matured into a full-grown actress, into a league of her own. I love, love, loved it.

Alan Rickman, as always, pulls off a stunning performance as dear ol' Snape. His deadpan sarcasm is spot on, and it always, always, always makes me want to hug him, no matter how much of an oily scumbag he's portrayed to be. He's too sexy, uh-huh!

Right. From here on, I'm going to be discussing the actual movie. Beware the SPOILERS!

From the very beginning, I'd had an inkling that the screenplay writer wouldn't stick precisely to the book. As much as I hate to admit it, sometimes, sticking entirely to the book wouldn't make for a very interesting movie. We learn in media studies and whatnot, that what is written as a novel is not necessarily good for the big screen. I can fully understand why the story was adapted as it was for the screen, and for what it's worth, I really like the added scenes.

Harry is a growing boy, and growing boys need some action in their lives. However, while I enjoyed the little quips regarding Harry's love life in this movie, I'm glad the director kept it low enough that the main plot, that of the horcruxes, was not sidelined.

Narcissa's overall appearance, however, quite took me by surprise. I'd always imagined her to look a little Veela-like, as JK Rowling had described her to be 'fair', while her sister Bellatrix was 'dark'. However, I also loved the haughtiness of her in the movie; her posture was brilliant.

One thing I was very worried about prior to the movie was how they were going to handle the fact that Harry and Ginny were going to be in a relationship. The actress playing Ginny, as I understand it, is very, very young, after all; but I am very extraordinarily happy with the finished product. It was subtle, but deep. I especially enjoyed the final scene of Dumbledore's death, where Harry sobbed over his body and Ginny hugged him from behind. That, in and of itself, is a confirmation of how close they'd gotten at that point; and we didn't even have to endure a long, wet tongue-fest on the big screen! (Yes. I liked the chaste kiss they shared. It was beautiful.)

I am a Harry x Hermione shipper. However, I'd quite grown to accept Ginny, because JK had written her as having grown up by this sixth book. I enjoyed watching her grow in the movie, too; it was particularly entertaining. However, I HAD thought she would be snippier, especially with Ron. BUT, I am quite willing to let that slide, seeing as to how, really, Ginny has progressed throughout the films.

Of course, it goes without saying that I enjoyed the Harry x Hermione interaction moments. I've long since came to terms with the fact that they enjoy a very loving and platonic relationship, and I'm glad I got to see so much of it in this movie. I especially enjoyed watching the interaction between them as Hermione cried over Ron. (Useless tosser. ._.) It gave me goosebumps. Most of all, here.

Hermione: How does it feel like, Harry? When you see Ginny with Dean?
Harry: ...
Hermione: I see how you look at her. I know.

*insert Lav-Lav and Won-Won and the parade of angry birds*

Harry: *leans back to allow Hermione crying-access to his shoulder* -This- is how it feels like.

Oh boy. That was so beautiful. SO beautiful. (The picture is not from the scene. I couldn't find one. ._.)

Personally, I think Ron and Lavender deserve each other. Ron looks as if someone sat on his face at birth. Then again, I guess it's not Rupert Grint's fault; I know many people out there find him attractive. (No flamers, please. I'm allowed my own opinions.)

I really love that they showed how Harry brought Luna to Slughorn's Christmas party. She looked so adorable, I wanted to pinch her cheeks.

It also surprised me somewhat that Cormac McLaggen looked as good as he did. As stupid as his 'chocolate-finger-licking-seduction-act' was, I have to admit, he looks pretty damn good. I also laughed my patooty off when Hermione hid behind the curtain to avoid him. I later released another chortle when Snape found Harry behind the curtain with Cormac.

Because boy on boy is so orthodox in Hogwarts, right? XD

Seriously, now. I love, love, LOVE how they've made Dumbledore so much more of a father figure in this movie. The little quips in the movie, with him asking about Harry's love life, and what-not, make him so much more... fatherly. It also made the audience emphatise more with Harry when he died. It was as if he was losing another father figure, after Sirius died. I'd mentioned above that I loved the scene in which Harry wept over Dumbledore's body. I won't recant it; it was BEAUTIFUL.

I'm raving now. I loved it. LOVED. Here's a shocker; the first 5/5 I've ever given, and it goes to Half Blood Prince. Kudos to the Harry Potter crew!

P/S: And, Felis Felicis? That must be SOME kind of crack in there, if it makes Harry go "WHEE" the way he did. XD

Movie Review: Ice Age 3 - Dawn of the Dinosaurs

2009-07-15T17:31:00.006+08:00

I was going to put off reviewing this one, (like I've been putting off reviewing Sell Out and Monsters vs Aliens), but really, if I'm going to be watching Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince tomorrow, I should probably get this out of the way.

First off, the obvious.

Sequels are never as good as the original.

Having said that, however, I feel the need to clarify that I don't feel that way about this sequel. Sure, it wasn't as good as its original, but, but, but, there was enough cuteness in it to make me, (me, being a GIRL with hormonal imbalances and all), to make me squeal.

Ice Age 3 picks up where Ice Age 2 left off. Manny and Ellie are awaiting the arrival of their new baby, now accompanied by not only Sid and Diego, but by Ellie's brothers, Crash and Eddy. Manny, obviously, suffering from OCD, goes nutso-insane-big-daddy-crazy over Ellie and his baby, while Sid does nothing but get in the way (but seriously, who didn't see that coming?). Diego has blackouts due to lack of exercise, (silly old tiger, yes he is!), and has a middle-age crisis.

The first thing that caught my attention, however, was this.

Three ADORABLE little baby T-rex thingies. Sid's babies. How on earth could something that small and that cute grow up to hate brocolli and eat just about everything and anything with flesh on their bones?

Who's my little t-rex baby? Who's my little man-eater? *coos*

And then, of course, the next thing to make me coo was this.

C'mon, I'm a woman. I'm hormanal, so deal with it. XD

PEACHES IS SO CUTE.

The one thing that got to me, though, was...

...how come Peaches cries like a human baby? .________. That's disturbing. VERY disturbing. I mean, imagine if you're blind. You just had a baby, and you're reaching out into a crib at the hospital to pick your child up. And because baby Peaches sounds exactly like a little human baby, you pick HER up, cuddle her, and go...

"AH BOH ARRRRRR! CHO MI SU WA LANG EH CHA BOR GI NA UU MOR EH?!"

*translation: WIFE! HOW COME OUR DAUGHTER HAS FUR?!"

Yes. I'm very much aware that mammoths are extinct and that there is absolutely no chance for someone to find a baby mammoth in a hospital crib.

I am obviously crazy. Bwahahahaha. I give this a 3/5 rating! For the babies and for the funny and for the SCRAT. XD

When In Doubt...

2009-07-13T22:55:00.004+08:00

...talk about sai.

Let me first educate you people who don't understand Hokkien (a dialect of Chinese) on the word sai. The word sai translates literally to si in Cantonese, (another dialect of Chinese).

In Malay, the word sai is equivalent to the word tahi.

Literally translated, sai, in English, means...

...doodoo. Poop. The big one.

Now, sai, as most of you know, comes in all forms and colours. There are entire websites dedicated to rating sai. (I only found out recently on Lengmou.blogspot.com) It is disturbing, but it's the cold hard truth.

So here's what happens when you put two bored girls in the same chatroom.

Emmy says (10:52 PM):
I'm going to go get my hair done tomorrow.
leanna says (10:52 PM):
oh yeah?
leanna says (10:52 PM):
whatcha gonna do?
Emmy says (10:52 PM):
Dye it red.
leanna says (10:52 PM):
ooh
leanna says (10:52 PM):
fancy
Emmy says (10:52 PM):
I do like red.
Emmy says (10:52 PM):
I want it to STAY red this time
Emmy says (10:52 PM):
Not turn yucky sai brown after a while
leanna says (10:52 PM):
HAHAHAHAHHAH
leanna says (10:53 PM):
sai brown
leanna says (10:53 PM):
that should be a shade
Emmy says (10:53 PM):
THAT IS SAI BROWN OKAY
leanna says (10:53 PM):
sai brown
Emmy says (10:53 PM):
NOT ONLY THAT
leanna says (10:53 PM):
piss blonde
Emmy says (10:53 PM):
We must have different shades
Emmy says (10:53 PM):
That correspond to the different colours of sai
Emmy says (10:53 PM):
Like
Emmy says (10:53 PM):
"Duck sai brown"
Emmy says (10:53 PM):
"Goat sai brown"
Emmy says (10:53 PM):
"Human sai brown"
leanna says (10:53 PM):
nasi kemak sai brown
Emmy says (10:53 PM):
:P
leanna says (10:53 PM):
belacAn sai brown
Emmy says (10:54 PM):
BEANS sai brown
leanna says (10:54 PM):
durian sai copper gold
Emmy says (10:54 PM):
Durian sai
Emmy says (10:54 PM):
XDDD
Emmy says (10:54 PM):
OH MY GOD
Emmy says (10:54 PM):
NOBODY WILL BUY OUR HAIRCARE PRODUCTS

In short, sai is a very fun topic to discuss. I can't stop laughing. XD

Hello, Home.

2009-07-13T00:18:00.003+08:00

My third semester ended last Thursday, with a 90-Multiple Choice Question paper for Leadership and Life Skills.

Is this how it feels to be finally done with year one of Uni?

I'm back in Penang. Things are going great so far, though I haven't gotten past the 'exhausted-post-examinations-and-driving-home' stage just yet. Phyl's gone on her 2-week fieldtrip, so there's going to be no spazzing/chatting/distraction for me, at least, until after these two weeks. Meanwhile, I'm just spending all my time hanging out with Mandy, mom and dad. It's not often we're all together like this; Mandy's leaving for Singapore again tomorrow morning.

So, the weekend. I got home on Friday afternoon, and Mandy, mom and me went out shopping after. I was exhausted; still am, but I did get some pretty good stuff. I spent most of Saturday at home, but I went for a BBQ with Mandy and a couple of friends at night. It was also then that we discovered that Monopoly (the game), comes in CARDS.

BOY was that fun.

Sunday equals movie day. Mom and dad went for Ice Age 3, which Mandy and I'd already watched (yes, the review comes soon.), and the two of us went for Transformers again. Watching it a second time allowed me to take in the finer points of the movie. I loved Lennox's wiseass comments on just about anything and everything. His exchanges with Epps are GOLD.

"Let's hope they have some hell of an aim."
"...why?"
"I told them to hit the orange smoke."
*orange smoke starts to rise around everyone*
"...that orange smoke?"
"It wasn't my best aim."

THAT killed me ten times over. XDDDD

But yes. I still lovelovelove it. There were parts I didn't like, but overall, really, I enjoyed it. Again. And I am likely to enjoy it again and again and again.

After our movies and lunch, we went to visit my aunt and uncle, and spent some time chatting with them. I've missed them both, and it's good to see that uncle's recuperating well after all that radiation therapy he had done on himself.

I also signed up for Zutara week 2009. THEN I realised that I'd left my scanner in KL after all. ._______________________. I feel kinda stupid.

Maybe I'll go back to KL for that week and spend it doing nothing but drawing. XD We'll see how it goes, hmm?

For now. I should work on *groan* bloody kiribans. I swear, I should just STOP giving them out. ._.

Movie Review: Public Enemies

2009-07-12T20:27:00.002+08:00

It was on a lonely, depressing, rainy Thursday afternoon that I'd hopped gleefully into the cinema, eager to gaze upon the beautifully-crafted face of my darling Johnny. Public Enemies. I had wanted to watch it since I first saw the trailer half a month or so ago.

And so I did.

Surprise, surprise, I came out even more in love with him than I was before; then again, I am hopelessly biased in this perspective.

But, honestly, how many of you can say, HONESTLY, that you don't like Johnny Depp? Seriously? SERIOUSLY?

Aha--he's just that lovable.

I realised, while thinking up what to say for this film, that there is a deeper meaning to the roles assigned. Johnny Depp plays the rogue-ish, yet horribly charming bank-heist genius--John Dillinger, while Christian Bale plays the straight laced, by-the-book, haunted law enforcer--Melvin Purvis. Logically, one would automatically assume that Purvis is good and Dillinger is evil.

Take a closer look. It's not what it seems to be.

The story is told from different perspectives; sometimes from Dillinger's, and sometimes from Purvis's. Whenever we see the world from Dillinger's perspective, we are shown his generous side. He robs banks, yes, but never the public's money; he's good with public relations, and he makes damn well sure the public loves him. Yet, at the same time, he's labelled 'public enemy number 1', and is hunted.

Logically, legally, and LAWFULLY, Dillinger's actions are wrong. Yet when we are told the story from his perspective, none of us can reasonably feel as if he's the crook here. I know I certainly didn't feel as if I wanted him dead. In fact, throughout the duration of the movie, I found myself at the edge of the seat, hoping he wouldn't die.

When we see the world through Purvis's eyes, however, we see chaos, and a box. He's slowly being forced into doing his job unethically; shooting and killing without reason. It becomes evident to us all near the middle-end of the film that he is slowly losing his wits, essentially becoming a cold-blooded 'killer for justice'. It's an interesting parallel that is pulled here, between Dillinger's character and his. We see him as the crook, the villian of the story; and yet, he is an enforcer of the law. Essentially, however, he's the good guy.

Personally, I don't think Purvis was evil. I think he was misguided. At the end of the day, he wanted to do the right thing, but his methods... well, they were more than questionable. They were unethical.

The camera angles for this film served very well to portray chaos. It almost feels as if director Michael Mann went for handhelds. It reminded me a lot of Bloody Sunday, only less... headachey. Watch it; give it your own thoughts. If anything, the all-star cast of Johnny Depp, Christian Bale, David Wenham, Marion Cotillard, and Channing Tatum are to die for; they do wonderful jobs. Wonderful.

All in all, I would say this film rates a solid 3.5/5 in my book. Worth a watch.

Movie Review: Push

2009-07-03T00:22:00.003+08:00

TOLAK TOLAK TOLAK TOLAK TOLAK! *is promptly hit across the head with an anvil*

Sometimes, I wonder how many times it takes for the Malaysian Translation-People to get the message that movie titles don't need to be translated. XD Then again, their booboos are a constant source of entertainment for me, so I suppose they -shouldn't- get the message.

Push. A random movie that I saw randomly for the sake of -watching- a movie, because I was back home with my freaks and anything we did together counted as a precious time, because we were together.

Surpsisingly enough, I ended up liking it, even if there were a lot of things that were left unexplained. It's a brand-new take on superpowers, and it kinda reminds me of Avatar's bending styles and whatnot; it's different, and it's not your regular Marvel/DC superhero superpowers. I like. I like very much.

So. Dakota Fanning.

Boy, oh boy, did she grow up well. She has a very.. aloof look about her, and her hair in this is so very adorable. I especially enjoyed a particular scene involving her and copious amounts of alcohol. It made me laugh, especially when she leaned back against the wall and went, "Ohhhh boy."

XD

Camilla Belle. Why, oh WHY does she have PERFECT HAIR all the damn time? It's almost as if she's an elf from the LoTR realm; they never have bad hair days, and they walk out of wars looking as if they'd just finished showering. What the heck?

I mean, she woke up lying face-down on a dock, and her hair's PERFECT. How the world did THAT happen?! D8

...and why can't it happen for me? *jealous*

She, too, is gorgey, though...

...is it any surprise to anyone at all that I'm ogling the girls as opposed to Chris Evans? He's just not very appealing to me at all, for some strange reason.

He popped on screen, and Andie turned aside to me and went, "DO NOT WANT."

XD Nuf' said.

But yes. Another pretty girl: Lolly-sucking scary-woman.

I find it hard to take her seriously when her idiot screamer brothers are surrounding her. XD They look as if their eyeballs are gonna pop out of their skulls when they scream; makes me LAF.

Like I said. How do you take that seriously? XDDD

All in all, though; I found it pretty interesting. I -would- watch it again, given the opportunity. 3.5/5 stars! Woohoo!