Else: Thanks for stopping by! Glad you like my rambles. And yeah I know they're rambles. I don't seem to be capable of doing anything else. Anyway, I see your point, regarding the meeting people off the Internet thing. It's just that the vast majority of the people that want to meet me are total losers. Maybe I haven't got lucky yet. But I don't know if I want to. Oh well.
Jackson: Signing up on wholivesnearyou.com doesn't necessarily imply that I want to meet people off the Internet. I saw the link to the site on a friend's blog (rui it was yours!) a couple of years or so ago and I signed up just to see what it was about. Finding dates or whatever through that site was never part of my agenda. On second thoughts, I don't think I had an agenda. And the pathetic thing was more directed at myself, but I can see how you can be confused. Also, owning a car isn't a prerequisite; having a licence is. The former is just a nice, fat bonus.
I watched Toy Factory's production of Cabaret and I must say that it was the most boring and unexciting musical I've ever watched. To be quite honest, the only reason I made my mom buy tickets for the show is Fei Xiang, who is like, serially and seriously gorgeous. He was, in fact, the only thing in the show that prevented me from falling asleep. He was funny, he was wacky, he was disturbing, and that voice of his was unmatchable (is that a word? Well.). Too bad I sat really far from the stage and so couldn't really see his face. But then again his face was covered in layers and layers of make-up anyway.
Everything else about the production sucked. The local actors were supposed to play German/English/American people but they sounded like Singaporeans pretending to be German/English/American. I wasn't impressed by the lead actress (emotional scenes were over-the-top), I cannot understand how Karen Tan got the gig (I recognised her two minutes into her first scene because her actions and speech patterns were almost exactly the same as the ones she adopted for her role in Quills) and her voice was horrible, and the whole thing was just...a mess. I had no idea what the story was even about, who the main players were, why they were even there. And you know what the funny thing is? I much preferred the way "Don't Tell Mama" was sung in a Season One episode of Veronica Mars - and it was a scene in which a couple of high school characters were auditioning for a high school production of Cabaret. When it ended I was like, Huh? It ended? When it didn't seem like it was going to end anytime soon I couldn't wait for it to end. And whenever Fei Xiang wasn't onstage I wished really hard for a remote control so that I could fast-forward through all the boring parts and just watch him and laugh and swoon.
Worst musical ever. The next time I decide to watch a local production of a world-famous musical, please clobber me.
Anyway, I regret not staying behind in hopes of catching a glimpse of Fei Xiang in the flesh. He's like so tall! He's like so handsome! Ahhh I want him. I mean yeah he's 40-something but a handsome man of a rather mature age is still a handsome man so who cares. I wish I was in Taiwan when he did Phantom of the Opera! Sigh. I miss out on so much just by being in Singapore. How sad is that?
My mom and I had dinner in this Taiwanese restaurant at Joo Chiat. I've been craving for chou dou fu (um, smelly tofu?) ever since I had my first piece ever in Taipei, at this stall in the night market near where I stayed. It was damn good. It was all stinky and stuff but when I ate it I totally didn't taste the odour I smelled. In fact, it was very garlic-y and...damn nice! So ever since then I've been craving it, and so we went to that Taiwanese restaurant today to have some.
Well, I wish we hadn't because it's officially erased my fond memories of that one piece of chou dou fu I had in Taipei. The ones I had today actually tasted of that gross smell. It wasn't good at all. But still, I think chou dou fu smells a lot better than rojak and durian.
I'm so not Singaporean. I so do not care.
So yeah, these are long overdue, but here they are. Pictures from Tuesday, when I went out with Mag and Tris:
Taken without flash, hence the yellowish tinge. As you can see, Mag was trying to murder me. She's mean. I think she can be prosecuted under, like, s. 300...something. That is, if she had succeeded. I named this file 'murderer mag'. It even alliterates! Hahahaha.
This file was named 'some weird dude'. HAHA. The bottom right picture was the only normal picture Mag took of Tris. He's funny, that guy. I like the picture of him glaring/salivating at his tom yam soup.
This one is unfair. I look greedy, but I'm actually not. My arm looks fat, and it actually is. I hate this picture. Why am I even posting it?
And finally, a nice, normal shot.
Went out with Mag and her Scottish exchange buddy Karen yesterday. We walked around the Scotts/Far East Plaza portion of Orchard and at the end of the whole thing my feet died. Lesson learnt: Heels and shopping don't mix.
I like Karen. I love her accent. She's lovely. And pretty. We took neoprints at Far East (the machine sucked!) and I showed my mom the neoprints and she said Karen is pretty. Because she is. I can't believe she's 19 and in her third year in law school! God I would love to be in my final year right now. Get it done with and get on with life. You know, the usual. And she doesn't even look 19! Anyway, yesterday was fun.
I'm reading Voltaire's Candide and I'm wondering why the French seemed to be quite fixated with brutal violence. The French are a people that produced the Marquis de Sade. And they did the whole Bastille thing, the Terror period, and they came up with the guillotine. Candide had some mentions of people being disembowelled, flogged, chopped to pieces, things like that. And there was this weird thing about a couple of women from some tribe who had a couple of monkeys as lovers. Oh, and there was this old woman who had one of her buttocks cut off as food for some...weird man.
Yeah. It's tawdry, people. And so very funny. When I finish it I will rave about how funny and clever it is, and then complain about how gory it is. I hate gore.
I've obviously finished Great Expectations, after ten million years. I prefer Dickens' original ending. Seems more tragic for Estella to be widowed. I can't believe Biddy married Joe, because of the obvious age disparity, but hey. I'm tempted to re-watch the Great Expectations movie with Ethan Hawke (yum) and Gwyneth Paltrow (gross) just to tear it apart and bitch about how stupid and trivial it is in the light of the greatness that is Dickens' novel, but hey, why waste my time, right? Yeah.
My brother wants to watch Sky High.