Latest movies watched:
1. Iron Man
2. What Happens in Las Vegas
Who would've thought Robert Downey JR was actually quite a good fit to play the annoying self-involved weapons designer cum ladies man? Perfect amount of smug and seriousness and drywit, I applaud the consummate actor for being perfectly believable as Tony Stark. Not the usual, kazillionaire-by-day and drowning-in-angst vigilante by-nite (Batman where art thou?), this superhero actually loves being one and thinks nothing of flaunting the must have outfit and gadgetry, which in this case, is very probably not made of iron, in broad daylight. My mother would have approved of the colour combi. Very auspicious.
Poor Gwyneth though. Pepper Potts really dumbed down this smart blonde. No wonder they dyed her hair red for this movie. Also very auspicious lah. I'd say all the ang worked. Look at the amount of money the movie made at the box office.
On the chick-com side, What Happens in Vegas is the usual cute but perfectly predictable rom-com starring the perfectly likable Ashton and Cameron. All perfect hair and perfect teeth and both very tall. But Cameron looks like she overdid the spray tan. What issit about the ang mohs and their obsession with "sunkissedness"?
Dounch unnerstand. Pefectly forgettable movie. I felt a mite ripped off cos it felt like a lame movie by 2 stars capable of better stuff but decided to boost their bank accounts by having a lot of fun on-screen at our expense.
18 May 2008
Huh goes the mo
Be happy for those around you
Although you’re crying inside
For the injustice of it all
That you’re always
The last one left behind
What your heart desires
Never seems to ever come to fruit
And you wonder where you’ve gone wrong
Again. To experience the happiness
Only through other peoples’ lives
You tell yourself to stop feeling sorry
To quit having pity
To rejoice in the hand fate dealt you
And forget about the rest
Like the longing in your heart
Like the man whose feet are too big for his shoes
You have what you have but they never fit
So do you accept those shoes
Or would you rather go barefoot
And wait for the glass slipper?
Some say you make those shoes
But what if cobbler training fails you
Then what have you to show?
But tattered leather and bare feet
And even sorrier than you were before
How do you be happy for others
When you aren’t happy?
How do you make the way for yourself
When you’re horrendous at maps?
Or is it ok to get lost and let fate lead the way
I’ve tried all them guide books
And all the so-called inspiration stuff
Even turned my life over to God
He says patience my child
I say Father I’ve waited too long
I’m tired of being patient to be patient
I’m tired of being left behind
I’m tired of always being the last
And never being the first
Am I missing something?
Although you’re crying inside
For the injustice of it all
That you’re always
The last one left behind
What your heart desires
Never seems to ever come to fruit
And you wonder where you’ve gone wrong
Again. To experience the happiness
Only through other peoples’ lives
You tell yourself to stop feeling sorry
To quit having pity
To rejoice in the hand fate dealt you
And forget about the rest
Like the longing in your heart
Like the man whose feet are too big for his shoes
You have what you have but they never fit
So do you accept those shoes
Or would you rather go barefoot
And wait for the glass slipper?
Some say you make those shoes
But what if cobbler training fails you
Then what have you to show?
But tattered leather and bare feet
And even sorrier than you were before
How do you be happy for others
When you aren’t happy?
How do you make the way for yourself
When you’re horrendous at maps?
Or is it ok to get lost and let fate lead the way
I’ve tried all them guide books
And all the so-called inspiration stuff
Even turned my life over to God
He says patience my child
I say Father I’ve waited too long
I’m tired of being patient to be patient
I’m tired of being left behind
I’m tired of always being the last
And never being the first
Am I missing something?
20 Mar 2008
When will I, will I be normal?
I don't know about you but from the earliest time I can recall, I know that I'm not normal. Not in a bad way or a good way. Just different from the usual people and how I long to be normal. To be run 'o the mill... to be like any other Singaporean girl.. whatever that means. I can't comment since I've never been to "normality". This kind of makes me sound like a retard but perhaps in some abstract way, we're not so different. Only that retardation is an accepted normality and to an extent evident in the physical makeup. My disability is hidden and cannot be detected unless you are close to me or in constant contact. I don't know which is worse.
I've tried my damnest to fit in all my life. In kindergarten, I was the girl who spoke english and no mandarin in a class of chinese speaking PAP kids. There was just a total communication lapse and it was only after I learnt mandarin that it became better. I had maybe 2 friends and I really didn't like boys. So smelly... so noisy.
Primary school wasn't much better. Alot of my kindergarten classmates went to the same neighbourhood school so same communication difficulties. I was the teacher's pet with the unpronoucable ang mo name and totally hilarious cheena one. I was the one that won every gold track and field trophy for 6 years in a row but really hated to run. I was class monitress, prefect and god knows what else. I was the one that the boys had crushes on and incurred the wrath of some females. Yes, we're talking about primary school. Don't ask me why kids have crushes at that age. I didn't. I was merely the object of desire that stuffed chili padi down their throats. I know this doesn't sound too bad but all of it made me stick out. And all I ever wanted was to be the wallflower. I don't want the limelight. Not comfortable.
Then after 6 years of being pushed to the front, I finally went to a Catholic school and there, I still stuck out like a sore thumb. The neighbourhood school girl with the funny chinese name. Still prefect, still track and field. Some things don't change despite my protests. Except now no boys. Or so I thought. Man, convent girls grow up fast! They found my gullibility and country bumpkin-ness endearing I suppose. Cos the notoriously naughty ones became my circle of friends. And led me astray.
Ok, this childhood bit is getting a bit long and tedious. And while I can safely say i spent the happiest days of my school life in secondary school (cos most of them spoke my language. It was wonderful and carefree and I think I kept some of my innocence despite all my worldly, wayward friends.
College was a nightmare. Worst 2 years of my life with the only saving grace being my girlfriends that I made and still have them till today. I could go on and on on how to be weirdo without trying and I'm tired. I'm exhausted at trying to playact and brainwash myself and reprogramme to be conventional and fit in. Think like a practical Singaporean. Be a typical girl. Don't think so much. Concentrate on the career and make as much money as possible because the cost of living is rising and have to prepare for retirement. I don't know if this makes sense, but it's taxing. Very very taxing.
I'm tired. Exhausted. My sanity is hanging by a spider's thread.
I've tried my damnest to fit in all my life. In kindergarten, I was the girl who spoke english and no mandarin in a class of chinese speaking PAP kids. There was just a total communication lapse and it was only after I learnt mandarin that it became better. I had maybe 2 friends and I really didn't like boys. So smelly... so noisy.
Primary school wasn't much better. Alot of my kindergarten classmates went to the same neighbourhood school so same communication difficulties. I was the teacher's pet with the unpronoucable ang mo name and totally hilarious cheena one. I was the one that won every gold track and field trophy for 6 years in a row but really hated to run. I was class monitress, prefect and god knows what else. I was the one that the boys had crushes on and incurred the wrath of some females. Yes, we're talking about primary school. Don't ask me why kids have crushes at that age. I didn't. I was merely the object of desire that stuffed chili padi down their throats. I know this doesn't sound too bad but all of it made me stick out. And all I ever wanted was to be the wallflower. I don't want the limelight. Not comfortable.
Then after 6 years of being pushed to the front, I finally went to a Catholic school and there, I still stuck out like a sore thumb. The neighbourhood school girl with the funny chinese name. Still prefect, still track and field. Some things don't change despite my protests. Except now no boys. Or so I thought. Man, convent girls grow up fast! They found my gullibility and country bumpkin-ness endearing I suppose. Cos the notoriously naughty ones became my circle of friends. And led me astray.
Ok, this childhood bit is getting a bit long and tedious. And while I can safely say i spent the happiest days of my school life in secondary school (cos most of them spoke my language. It was wonderful and carefree and I think I kept some of my innocence despite all my worldly, wayward friends.
College was a nightmare. Worst 2 years of my life with the only saving grace being my girlfriends that I made and still have them till today. I could go on and on on how to be weirdo without trying and I'm tired. I'm exhausted at trying to playact and brainwash myself and reprogramme to be conventional and fit in. Think like a practical Singaporean. Be a typical girl. Don't think so much. Concentrate on the career and make as much money as possible because the cost of living is rising and have to prepare for retirement. I don't know if this makes sense, but it's taxing. Very very taxing.
I'm tired. Exhausted. My sanity is hanging by a spider's thread.
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