September 26th, 2010

Charah coffee

Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps

Wei Chuen and I watched Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps last night. I fell asleep halfway through. His shoulder felt very comfortable.

But seriously, the movie was so boring - and I'm not judging it from the perspective of someone who doesn't know, or care, a lot about finance. I can identify three problems with the movie off the top of my head:

1. Too much exposition and talking;
2. Point #1 wouldn't be a problem, except it is, because Shia LaBeouf was party to the talking most of the time; and thus
3. The movie was flat and unengaging, assuming it even had a story.

Maybe I just needed to watch the original 1987 film before watching the sequel; maybe that would've helped me care about the characters, in particular Michael Douglas'. Instead, the only person I cared about was Winnie Gecko, and the only reason I gave a damn is because I have a crush on Carey Mulligan. She spent the whole movie crying and I felt sad for her but I'm not sure if I would've felt the same if the character had been played by someone else.

And really, Shia LaBeouf has some way to go before he's able to substantially carry a movie by himself. I found him passable in Transformers, but then, you don't need acting chops to pull off Transformers; it's all about the weird robot porn anyway. If you're going to act in a movie like Wall Street, though, you have to look the part and have the charisma to make me believe that you know what you're talking about when you're acting as a hot-shot young trader who knows what he's talking about. Maybe it was his hunched, slouchy shoulders, or the fact that he just looks so young; but Shia LaBeouf was utterly unconvincing and unengaging.

The movie actually has an interesting story but I don't know why it became like...that. About a third into the movie I thought the rest of it would be about how Transformers Guy plotted to take down the company that destroyed Transformers Guy's company and led to the suicide of his mentor. I think largely that was what the rest of the movie was about, but I'm not sure, because I fell asleep. I thought it would get interesting but it continued to crawl at a laconic pace with no sense of urgency or direction. And the quirky camera effects got tired after a while.

I was sad that I slept through one of Carey's scenes but oh my god, I really couldn't help it. It was so boring. I could follow what was happening but the execution was just uninspired.

One thing I would say though: I really liked the whole look of the movie. It looked very vintage, as if it was released in the 1980's.

But that was about it. That, and Carey Mulligan. The rest of the movie did nothing for me.




We had some food at Billy Bombers last night. The milkshake was pretty amazing. I got really annoyed and a bit upset, though, when I tried to pour the rest of the shake into the glass but ended up missing and spilling it on the table. Wei Chuen concluded I had OCD because I simply wouldn't leave it alone and had to get it cleaned up before I felt better.

Boo. But if I have OCD why is my room perpetually so messy? I don't understand.
Charah coffee

You do it to yourself.

At the SAL event a couple of weeks ago, I ran into this guy from school with whom I went out a couple of times. Halfway through my "keeping an open mind" about this person, despite not feeling overly excited about him (to say the least), Wei Chuen popped back into my life and swept me off my feet. Okay, that's a gross overstatement, but he definitely distracted me from what I set out to do.

Things between me and the guy didn't end badly - or at all. One day Wei Chuen and I got together and sometime before that I had lunch with the guy and I suppose I should've said something, but I didn't because it was weird. Lunch ended on an unfinished note - "You can pay me back next time," he said.

There wasn't a next time. The next time I talked to him was at the SAL lecture a few weeks back. I was actually looking for Olivia during the dinner reception and I found myself standing next to him. He said hi, and so did I, and I made some really forced small talk, and it was really weird. So I ended that very quickly.

I guess I'm not really interested in being friends with guys that I went out with, however briefly, even if it didn't end on a sour note. But quite apart from that, I can't help but feel really awkward and weird and ill at ease. Once it's over, I just want to have nothing to do with you - no exceptions.

Maybe it's a character flaw; but it's worked out pretty well for me so far. I don't feel any nostalgia towards the guys that I've cut out of my life. I genuinely don't care - really, really don't care - about any of them. Perhaps the only ex-boyfriend that I have a bit of a soft spot for - that is, using the phrase "soft spot" in relation to my utter lack of regard or care for the rest of them - is the guy that I dated in JC. But perhaps that has got to do with residual guilt flowing from how badly I treated him more than anything else, anything halfway humane, or human, or decent.

My defence is that many of them don't deserve any decency from me to begin with. But witnessing a friend's reaction from a break-up recently had me wondering about why it is that people like her, and me, are so quick to point the finger at the guy and absolve themselves of all blame when something goes wrong, even when, objectively, it wasn't all the guy's fault. I remember going out with another guy in Year 1 of law school and when he decided that he didn't want to date me, I reacted as if he'd cheated on me while on exchange and all the while pretending like everything was normal. I definitely overreacted. Up till today I still don't know why.

That said, it's still hard to let go of things that happened 3 years ago. A few nights back I felt a sudden urge to text the culprit to say that I wanted to talk to him, in hopes of gaining some closure. Perhaps I was reeling from the fight that Wei Chuen and I were engrossed in, perhaps I was just fucking tired from a very long day at work, perhaps I was temporarily insane; or perhaps I wanted to stop running away from this. It's easier to pretend like the culprit doesn't exist than to acknowledge his presence, the fact that this shit happened, the fact that I still cannot come to terms with what I did. Most of the time I don't think about it; most of the time I genuinely forget about his existence.

But when I do think about it, it still makes me cry. I told Friendly Partner on Friday that my experience with guys hasn't been what he described, namely, that people are generically the same and that they are spread out on a bell curve, and most people fall into the middle portion of the curve.

I honestly mean this: If I hadn't gone through that period in 2007, I might agree with him. But I simply can't. To agree with him would be saying that my current boyfriend and my ex-boyfriend are largely similar - but they're not. Most important of all, at the core of who they are, they are the complete opposites. Even after factoring in human failings there's still absolutely no logical explanation for what he did to me. And it still makes me cry because now I have a basis for comparison, however subconscious. Now that I know what is truly good, it hurts to think that I was prepared to settle for so much less - in fact, that I was prepared to be happy with something that was rotten at its core.

Sigh. The truth is, I don't know if I'd ever get past this. I don't give a shit about the person anymore; what I can't come to terms with is how I could've done it to myself. Of course, it's easier to blame the guy, and perhaps that was why I reacted the way I did in Year 1 of law school - so that I wouldn't feel so fucking stupid. But what's the point of blaming the guy when you know for sure that you did it all to yourself?

Well, anyway.


On another note, fuck, I can't believe it's fucking Monday again.

Also, I found out a few days ago that Joaquin Phoenix's bizarro appearance on Letterman two years ago was all a hoax and it was all done for his mockumentary movie thing with Casey Affleck. He appeared on Letterman again, clean-shaven, hair trimmed, looking sharp in a suit, and OH SO SEXY. I'm reminded of why I was so besotted with him back in secondary school/junior college. I hope the rumours about him playing Leonardo DiCaprio's gay lover in the Hoover biopic is true. I'D LOVE TO SEE THAT HAPPEN. My other dream pairing would be Joaquin and Christian Bale. SIGHHH.

Hee hee I love Joaquin.


Lastly, I played tennis today and it was pretty okay. I hit a nice forehand winner from mid-court. My backhand really pissed me off though. Half my shots were smacked straight into the net. What the hell. That has to be sorted out pronto.