Yesterday was a hell of a long day, so this may end up being a hell of a long entry.
My LAWR TG visited the Subordinate Courts in the morning to test, like, the microphones and the volume and to get a feel of the environment and all that. I woke up at 8 a.m. for breakfast at a dim sum restaurant, supposedly with Siming, Agatha and Joel, but when I took the escalator down to Chinatown MRT station and saw Siming alone he told me that the other two weren't showing.
Um. Okay. We took about twenty minutes getting to the place and it was about 9.10 when we got there and it was quite crowded. The food was good; my heaviest breakfast in a long, long while. I ate very little though. Siming was quite amazed, and the feeling was certainly mutual (the bill was about $28; I had three plates and he had everything else).
In the end, we were ten minutes late for the Subordinate Courts thing. When we burst into the room it seemed like everyone was already getting ready to leave. The tutor from the opposing TG was there. The height of the lecturn (sp?) pleased me. The need to speak into a microphone didn't.
It was cold. I attempted to recite my opening statement off the top of my head but ended up getting my Jacqueline facts mixed up. When this whole thing is over, I'd be the first in line to cheerily bury our client. Whatever.
I must've driven by the Subordinate Courts before, but I never quite got a good look at it. So yesterday when Siming and I emerged from the underground MRT station and I had a good, hard look at the Courts, I could've sworn that I'd just seen NUS' Engineering Faculty. The building is fugly, all run-down and greyish brown and unpleasant to look at. Then again, the new Supreme Court is fugly too; no surprises there. We're way too obsessed with "modernism" and massive clinical glass walls that look like a too-sleek shopping mall, just like SMU.
Ultimately though, I don't give a damn either way.
The fun part came after we got out of the Subordinate Courts. Siming, Agatha, Grace and I squeezed into the back of Joshua's car while Kelvin had the front seat all to himself. After a long bout of indecisiveness, we headed to Maxwell Food Centre where we sat around for about an hour and talked and laughed and had a good time. If I hadn't had dim sum for breakfast, I would've eaten the mifen that I adore so much; instead, I had bubble tea. I haven't had bubble tea for the longest time. Sometimes it surprises me that the bubble tea stall at Maxwell is still surviving.
After that, Siming, Agatha and I took a cab down to Orchard. On the cab we were talking about mooting and all that jazz, and Agatha made a random comment about how she'd discreetly pass a note saying "let's have lunch" to a good-looking male lawyer if she were a judge, which cracked me up and grossed Siming out. The taxi driver was very amused by us. And I also found out that this American guy who disappeared halfway through last semester is actually in Iraq right now, serving his country and all that jazz. Needless to say, I was very surprised. The Iraq situation always felt like something remote to me to which I hadno connection, and although I didn't know that American guy (and only knew of him because he spoke a lot during lectures) it still feels weird to know that it's a reality for someone you knew of.
If that even made sense.
We went to Zara where I tried on a bunch of clothes but didn't buy anything. Agatha tried on this hilarious long polka-dot skirt and this other short frilly-ish white skirt. It was funny. What was hilarious, though, was when we got to Guess and Agatha was like, Let's try on something outrageous! And she picked out a random green halter dress for me and another long-ass black halter dress for herself; we hit the fitting room and I attempted to cover my chest with whatever stingy amount of cloth it had and the dress was too big and it kept slipping off, and it was the most horrendous outfit I've ever tried on. It was utterly atrocious and I looked shitty in it. Then Agatha came out in her dress and proclaimed, "I look pregnant!" Haha! It was hilarious. We swapped dresses and the black one was slightly better but I looked pregnant too.
Siming waited outside and was very amused.
Because I don't really feel like writing at this moment: we walked around Paragon, then around Wisma (where I saw this HOT guy in a nice suit) we had food at BigO (I had a cheesecake and it sucked), then more food at KFC, and that was that.
All in all, it was a fun, enjoyable day.
I watched Ray on HBO last night and throughout I was thinking that it was a better film than Walk the Line until I went online after Ray ended and found out that it left out a lot of salient facts about Ray Charles' questionable morals.
I felt cheated and thus concluded that I like Walk the Line much better. In any case, Ray felt too dramatised for a biographical film. Walk the Line is truer and more real, and once again, Joaquin's performance is that much more natural than Jamie Foxx's. For me, the latter suffered the same problem as Philip Seymour Hoffman: the performance was a bit too studied to be truly natural.
And that super dramatic scene in Ray at the end involving his mom and his brother? Those contrived two minutes alone almost ruined the entire film for me. I blame it on "it wasn't your fault".
I got a strong urge to watch Walk the Line again while watching Ray. I need the double-disc DVD!
I sat through an hour and a half's worth of shitty "singers" and groups on TVBS this afternoon just to watch 3 minutes of Jay Chou singing Fa Ru Xue. His purple pants were fug, I've always hated his goatee, he copped out on that super high note towards the end of the song, but it was worth it anyway. Ah, I love his music. He's so talented that it's almost inhuman.
Haha, but not quite.
Anyway, this other singer, Ke You Lun or whatever, totally ripped off Jielun's Zui Hou De Zhan Yi for that first song he sang. Or rather, the first song he tried to sing. Like, OMG, what the hell was that? Talk about noise pollution. And he bloody cannot pronounce Chinese words; it was such a torture listening to him try to sing.
Alan Luo sucks too. Cyndi Wang is laughable, and nothing else. And 183 Club - what the fuck? Enough said.
And - no offence Mag - I thought that the verses of Lee Hom's Jian Dan De Yi Shou Ge (or something along those lines) sounded A LOT like Michael Jackson's Heal the World. Thankfully it lost the resemblance as it got to the chorus and his performance, along with Jielun's, were the only ones worth watching. Everything else was crap.
I didn't study at all. Somehow that doesn't surprise me.