10 Random Things I've Fallen in Love With in 2008
1. Lee Pace's hands
Lee Pace has very beautiful hands. I realised this when I watched The Fall (amazing movie; watch it. It's available on Youku) and a behind-the-scenes for Soldier's Girls. Lee Pace is a very beautiful man - yes, beautiful - in general, but his hands... *g*
2. House M.D.
House M.D. is one of the best tv shows ever written... Maybe the best. Ha, ha. Hugh Laurie's character, Gregory House, is perfectly balanced out with Robert Sean Leonard's Robert Wilson and Lisa Edelstein's Lisa Cuddy. The lines are perfectly scripted and wordy (for an American show), the humour is so British (for an American show) and the plots are so well laid-out. Go House M.D.
3. Coldplay
I've always thought that Coldplay was pretty good, but this year I listened closely to A Rush of Blood to the Head and X&Y, and I realised that all the songs contained a sentiment that was hidden somewhere in my heart. But let's move on before I turn too soppy.
4. Robert Wilson
From House M.D. Need I say more?
5. Pushing Daisies
This made me a Lee Pace fan. Quirky, odd, and brilliant, I'm a firm advocate of reviving the tv show again, or at least making a full-length movie to tie off the loose ends of the tv show.
6. Wicked
My first West End musical!! My Elphaba was Alexia Khadime, Dianne Pilkington as Glinda and Oliver Tompsett as Fiyero. I'd been hoping to go see Kerry Ellis as Elphaba, because my friend Jessica saw her as Elphie in February when she was in London. However, Ellis is on a short-term contract on Broadway. She's back in Wicked London, I think. I love the songs and the characters, although Fiyero should have had more songs and the plot got a little messy sometimes.
7. Colin Firth
I've seen quite a few Colin Firth movies this year - Bridget Jones's Diary, Mamma Mia!, and I rewatched What a Girl Wants. Colin Firth always brings a new dimension to his characters, especially Mamma Mia!. His character Harry could have been extremely stupid and flat, but Colin Firth brings this cute bubbliness to it. And Colin Firth makes socially awkward but secretly brilliant barristers more awesome than ever.
8. Lee Pace
He's brilliant and beautiful. There, I said it. Go Lee Pace. You're awesome.
9. Men in tuxes
Because guys nowadays wear their jeans too low, their boxers too proudly, their hair too shaggily... and the list could go on, but I won't take it out on modern guys, because despite some of them dress like that, their okay. But most guys nowadays are jerks. Why don't we all become celibate and hide in nunneries? Then all of MANkind will know what they've taken for granted.
10. Camping
I've fallen in love with camping thanks to Emma. I love you Emmy!!!! You're amazing, and so is your mum and your dad and your brother. (Yes, you, Tom. Behave.) Wales and even the mud of Bath and West, 50p showers that actually cost 1 pound because there isn't enough water to get the soap out of your hair.
Sunday 28 December 2008
Wednesday 17 December 2008
Coldplay - Amsterdam
5 Random Things I Love About Shanghai
1. The random squabbles I see on the streets. No idea what it's about, but it's fun to watch.
2. My orthodontist clinic is on the same floor as the STD clinic.
3. They sell soy sauce at M&S, but no mince pies apparently. (I've not been there myself, but friend's mum did.)
4. You get to bargain and haggle, just like the good old days.
5. After a few months year, you tend to forget that clouds actually do exist.
I wanted to write 10 Random Things, but I just couldn't think of any... Not that I don't love Shanghai. I love Shanghai! It's a quite amazing place to live. But my mind is at a total blank right now...
1. The random squabbles I see on the streets. No idea what it's about, but it's fun to watch.
2. My orthodontist clinic is on the same floor as the STD clinic.
3. They sell soy sauce at M&S, but no mince pies apparently. (I've not been there myself, but friend's mum did.)
4. You get to bargain and haggle, just like the good old days.
5. After a few months year, you tend to forget that clouds actually do exist.
I wanted to write 10 Random Things, but I just couldn't think of any... Not that I don't love Shanghai. I love Shanghai! It's a quite amazing place to live. But my mind is at a total blank right now...
Friday 28 November 2008
Holly Brook - Wanted
Yesterday, my friend introduced me to Picnik, which I have dubbed "Photoshop for idiots", namely, me. Anyway, during my lunch break, I got around to playing with it and here is one of my two creations from today.
This features Grand Gateway, one of my favourite places in Shanghai. Xujiahui is the name of the part of town it's in. I know the words are a little too high, but something got messed up when I was saving it. So.
I did a better one of my friend and my sister, but the file is too huge.
Monday 24 November 2008
The Killers - All These Things That I've Done
I think Plato prophetically summarised America when he said
Excess of liberty, whether it lies in state or individuals, seems only to pass into excess of slavery.
Excess of liberty, whether it lies in state or individuals, seems only to pass into excess of slavery.
Tuesday 18 November 2008
Joshua Bell - In Trutina
I am confused about life.
I know that doesn't sound very impressive. Many people are confused with life. However, for the last year in my life, I've been clearly defined in my emotions. If I'm happy, I'm happy. If I'm sad, I'm sad.
Recently, I am happy, but I feel like I'm wasting my time with frivolous entertainments. I'm angry, but I feel petty and unreasonable in my anger. I'm sad, but I feel that I have no right to be sad because there's so much more sadness in the world.
I wish life would be simple again. 
I know that doesn't sound very impressive. Many people are confused with life. However, for the last year in my life, I've been clearly defined in my emotions. If I'm happy, I'm happy. If I'm sad, I'm sad.
Recently, I am happy, but I feel like I'm wasting my time with frivolous entertainments. I'm angry, but I feel petty and unreasonable in my anger. I'm sad, but I feel that I have no right to be sad because there's so much more sadness in the world.
I wish life would be simple again.
Tuesday 11 November 2008
Lucinda Williams - Are You Alright
I felt I needed to post something... I guess this is quite relevant. If you haven't noticed, all the titles of my posts is the title of the song I'm listening to at the moment. So welcome to the soudntrack to my life.
THIS IS TO MIKI'S FAVOURITE MUSIC PLAYLIST ON iTUNES.
IF YOUR LIFE WAS A MOVIE, WHAT WOULD THE SOUNDTRACK BE?
So, here's how it works:
1. Open your library (iTunes, Winamp, Media Player, iPod, etc)
2. Put it on shuffle
3. Press play
4. For every question, type the song that's playing
5. When you go to a new question, press the next button
6. Don't lie and try to pretend you're cool...
Opening Credits: Ella Fitzgerald - You're the Top
Waking Up: Brooke Fraser - Love is Waiting
First Day At School: Jamie T - Calm Down Dearest
Secondary School: Rascal Flatts - What Hurts the Most
Falling In Love: Travis - Closer
Fight Song: Tim Hughes & 29th Chapter - Saviour
Breaking Up: The Return of the King soundtrack - the Grey Havens
Prom: Hayley Westenra - Quanta Qualia
Life: Dido - Life for Rent
Mental Breakdown: Matt Redman - My Soul is Complete
Driving: Edward Ross - the Breaking of the Fellowship
Flashback: Hillsong Live - This is Our God
Getting Back Together: Mamma Mia! soundtrack - Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A Man After Midnight)
Wedding: Switchfoot - Dare You to Move
Birth of Child: Juli - Geile Zeit
Final Battle: Hillsong Live - You'll Come
Death Scene: Belle & Sebastian - Piazza, New York Catcher
Funeral Song: Coldplay - the Hardest Part
End Credits: Coldplay - Sparks
THIS IS TO MIKI'S FAVOURITE MUSIC PLAYLIST ON iTUNES.
IF YOUR LIFE WAS A MOVIE, WHAT WOULD THE SOUNDTRACK BE?
So, here's how it works:
1. Open your library (iTunes, Winamp, Media Player, iPod, etc)
2. Put it on shuffle
3. Press play
4. For every question, type the song that's playing
5. When you go to a new question, press the next button
6. Don't lie and try to pretend you're cool...
Opening Credits: Ella Fitzgerald - You're the Top
Waking Up: Brooke Fraser - Love is Waiting
First Day At School: Jamie T - Calm Down Dearest
Secondary School: Rascal Flatts - What Hurts the Most
Falling In Love: Travis - Closer
Fight Song: Tim Hughes & 29th Chapter - Saviour
Breaking Up: The Return of the King soundtrack - the Grey Havens
Prom: Hayley Westenra - Quanta Qualia
Life: Dido - Life for Rent
Mental Breakdown: Matt Redman - My Soul is Complete
Driving: Edward Ross - the Breaking of the Fellowship
Flashback: Hillsong Live - This is Our God
Getting Back Together: Mamma Mia! soundtrack - Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A Man After Midnight)
Wedding: Switchfoot - Dare You to Move
Birth of Child: Juli - Geile Zeit
Final Battle: Hillsong Live - You'll Come
Death Scene: Belle & Sebastian - Piazza, New York Catcher
Funeral Song: Coldplay - the Hardest Part
End Credits: Coldplay - Sparks
Saturday 8 November 2008
Amy Adams - Happy Working Song
It's cold now - cold enough for long sleeves, sweatshirts and woolly socks in an unheated room - and I feel like I'm up in the Lake District in the middle of August again.
If I think about it, I had a miserable time in England.
I didn't have proper hiking boots and my trainers weren't waterproof, which resulted in me going up and down a mountain and all over the Lake District in purple wellies which, when I converted it over, cost me less than a pound.
At Soul Survivor, I didn't have a proper cagoule except for an embarressing long, tan, David Tennat-esque one with Burberry print which my mum made me bring because she was absolutely convinced that my sensible black one which served me well in Australia wouldn't be enough. I would have more likely tripped over the long hem going up the mountain and tumbled down into the glacial valley below.
And then, I didn't shower for four days at Soul Survivor. It was horribly gross. My hair got nasty. I wasn't at my most attractive. And when I did take a shower, the portable shower had a puddle of nasty, soapy, muddy water which I had to stand in because the water wouldn't drain away properly.
It was the middle of August and I was catching colds and suffering from allergic reactiosn to the tons of carpets they lay down in the house. (For goodness' sake, they have carpets in their bathrooms.) I was constantly tramping around in sweatshirts (there was one warm day there), scarves, et cetera...
To top it off, while we were in Wales, I was sleeping alone in a tent (a purple, "pappy" [as Emma would say] tent) while a storm raged, causing me to nearly inhale the waterproof material as it billowed in my face while I slept.
Also, when we went swimming in the Welsh sea, all my friends had wetsuits while I ran into the water with my summer swim suit. (Okay, Tom, Jake and Isaac had no wetsuits either, but that doesn't count; they're boys. I'm not acknowledging their superiority, I'm just saying that they're guys.) I might as well have gone in stark naked.
Then, in London, my friend convinced me that you had to wear a skirt to a West End show. My skirt is built for summer and not for wind, causing it nearly to expose my plain, cotton "Mummy-pants" (in the words of Bridget Jones) as I climbed the steps up the Apollo Victoria Theatre.
*fume*
But anyway.
I <3 U.K.
If I think about it, I had a miserable time in England.
I didn't have proper hiking boots and my trainers weren't waterproof, which resulted in me going up and down a mountain and all over the Lake District in purple wellies which, when I converted it over, cost me less than a pound.
At Soul Survivor, I didn't have a proper cagoule except for an embarressing long, tan, David Tennat-esque one with Burberry print which my mum made me bring because she was absolutely convinced that my sensible black one which served me well in Australia wouldn't be enough. I would have more likely tripped over the long hem going up the mountain and tumbled down into the glacial valley below.
And then, I didn't shower for four days at Soul Survivor. It was horribly gross. My hair got nasty. I wasn't at my most attractive. And when I did take a shower, the portable shower had a puddle of nasty, soapy, muddy water which I had to stand in because the water wouldn't drain away properly.
It was the middle of August and I was catching colds and suffering from allergic reactiosn to the tons of carpets they lay down in the house. (For goodness' sake, they have carpets in their bathrooms.) I was constantly tramping around in sweatshirts (there was one warm day there), scarves, et cetera...
To top it off, while we were in Wales, I was sleeping alone in a tent (a purple, "pappy" [as Emma would say] tent) while a storm raged, causing me to nearly inhale the waterproof material as it billowed in my face while I slept.
Also, when we went swimming in the Welsh sea, all my friends had wetsuits while I ran into the water with my summer swim suit. (Okay, Tom, Jake and Isaac had no wetsuits either, but that doesn't count; they're boys. I'm not acknowledging their superiority, I'm just saying that they're guys.) I might as well have gone in stark naked.
Then, in London, my friend convinced me that you had to wear a skirt to a West End show. My skirt is built for summer and not for wind, causing it nearly to expose my plain, cotton "Mummy-pants" (in the words of Bridget Jones) as I climbed the steps up the Apollo Victoria Theatre.
*fume*
But anyway.
I <3 U.K.
Wednesday 5 November 2008
Sunday 2 November 2008
Dexys Midnight Runners - Come On Eileen
Admittedly, I've never read Doctor Mary Pipher's book Reviving Ophelia: Saving the Selves of Adolescent Girls. (I read the excerpt of it on Amazon.com, though, and it looks very interesting.) Essentially, Doctor Pipher is saying that as girls enter the adolescent stage, they lose who they truly are inside and confine themselves into the narrow definition of women, that women must be docile and submissive and please others instead of thinking, "Who am I? What do I want?"
Some people think that feminism is not what the Bible teaches. The Bibles teaches that "Wives, submit to your husbands" (Ephesians 5:22). Some people take this very seriously. I know some people who used to go to a church who refused to let their wives work, because if wives earned their own income, you can't really be submissive to your husband.
I'm not a feminist, and yet I've never been one who bows my head or lowers my eyes at the oncoming male. When I first read that verse, I began to struggle with wondering that if God created all men (I take this to mean wo-men as well, too) equal, and if God loves us all, why should we be submissive? Why does it sound like men have to bruise our heads under their heel?
Then, I heard a sermon (unfortunately, I don't remember the source) that my mum was playing on our CD player which was very interesting... It said that women were not created from a bone from the man's leg, so that the man would not step on her; women were not created from the man's head, so that she would not rule the man. Instead, she was created from his ribs, so that she will be able to support him.
Slowly, I began to work my opinions out. I believe that women can have their own opinions (didn't the Lord not deliver Sisera into the hands of a woman?) and their own strength. In a healthy marriage, a husband and wife should talk it out, and the husband should hear his wife's opinions. But ultimately, it is the husband's decision.
(I know easier said than done, but that's another issue I'll deal with when I'm there :-D.)
For many years, I felt that I was and knew that I was rather unusual. I didn't like shopping, I never really struggled with self-image, I didn't really care what boys thought of me.
And the subject of "boys" is another issue.
I'm not afraid of guys and what they think of me. I've gotten something of a reputation of arguing with guys, not being afraid of being teased by them... For a while, it was fun. Then, after a while, my mum told me (with the best intentions) that I might be scaring guys off. This got me worried until one day, one of my guy friends started trying to hook me up with his best friend. When I inquired why, my friend said, "Well, he relates to you better than any girl."
"Oh."
I don't care if guys are scared off by me. In my opinion, that either means that they're expecting the girl to curl up, giggle and die, or they don't like me for who I am (or at least, the side that hates guys who expect girls to curl up, giggle and die).
But suddenly, recently, with a recent influx of more teenage girls into my homeschooling group of friends, I feel the pressure to conform...
Shopping, face, body, image...
If we are so liberated and emancipated, why do we fear what others think of us? Why can't we be proud to be women - a woman, the one who God intended for us to be? Who gives a shite about what the media wants us to be? You do realise that the image of skinny women only really came after the widespread influence of the media?
Be proud. Be you.
Some people think that feminism is not what the Bible teaches. The Bibles teaches that "Wives, submit to your husbands" (Ephesians 5:22). Some people take this very seriously. I know some people who used to go to a church who refused to let their wives work, because if wives earned their own income, you can't really be submissive to your husband.
I'm not a feminist, and yet I've never been one who bows my head or lowers my eyes at the oncoming male. When I first read that verse, I began to struggle with wondering that if God created all men (I take this to mean wo-men as well, too) equal, and if God loves us all, why should we be submissive? Why does it sound like men have to bruise our heads under their heel?
Then, I heard a sermon (unfortunately, I don't remember the source) that my mum was playing on our CD player which was very interesting... It said that women were not created from a bone from the man's leg, so that the man would not step on her; women were not created from the man's head, so that she would not rule the man. Instead, she was created from his ribs, so that she will be able to support him.
Slowly, I began to work my opinions out. I believe that women can have their own opinions (didn't the Lord not deliver Sisera into the hands of a woman?) and their own strength. In a healthy marriage, a husband and wife should talk it out, and the husband should hear his wife's opinions. But ultimately, it is the husband's decision.
(I know easier said than done, but that's another issue I'll deal with when I'm there :-D.)
For many years, I felt that I was and knew that I was rather unusual. I didn't like shopping, I never really struggled with self-image, I didn't really care what boys thought of me.
And the subject of "boys" is another issue.
I'm not afraid of guys and what they think of me. I've gotten something of a reputation of arguing with guys, not being afraid of being teased by them... For a while, it was fun. Then, after a while, my mum told me (with the best intentions) that I might be scaring guys off. This got me worried until one day, one of my guy friends started trying to hook me up with his best friend. When I inquired why, my friend said, "Well, he relates to you better than any girl."
"Oh."
I don't care if guys are scared off by me. In my opinion, that either means that they're expecting the girl to curl up, giggle and die, or they don't like me for who I am (or at least, the side that hates guys who expect girls to curl up, giggle and die).
But suddenly, recently, with a recent influx of more teenage girls into my homeschooling group of friends, I feel the pressure to conform...
Shopping, face, body, image...
If we are so liberated and emancipated, why do we fear what others think of us? Why can't we be proud to be women - a woman, the one who God intended for us to be? Who gives a shite about what the media wants us to be? You do realise that the image of skinny women only really came after the widespread influence of the media?
Be proud. Be you.
Thursday 30 October 2008
Electric Light Orchestra - Do Ya
I realise that if you don't know me in real life (and even if you do), you probably don't know a lot about me... So here's a little thing I snagged off my friend's Fanfiction account that I think covers some of the basics without revealing too much.
Name: Miki
Birthday: 18 September, 199-
Eye Color: Dark brown
Hair Color: Black, black, black
Height:148 cm (I hate being short)
Your Heritage: Asian - Chinese :-)
Your Weakness: People I pity, people whom I think can't do the job well, good food, books, music
Goal You Would Like To Achieve This Year: Grow taller? The year is ending
Thoughts First Waking Up: Great... A new day... Great...
Pepsi or Coke: Coke all the way - that is if I get around to drinking it... Haha
MacDonalds or Burger King: Burger King
Chocolate or Vanilla: Don't really care... It depends. How about both?
Cappuccino or Coffee: I don't drink either
Do you Smoke: Nope
Do you Swear: um... Only when I'm extremely upset. Honest.
Do you Sing: Yes. It's one of the talents I do well.
Do you want to go to College: Yeah, and to university after that as well
Do you want to get Married: Yes - and have kids, too, at that
Are you a Health Freak: Not really... I mean, I feel guilty when I have fast food too many times, I drink quite a lot of water, and I stay away from snacks...
Do you get along with your Parents: Yes
Do you like Thunderstorms: It depends...
How do you want to Die: Gracefully.
What do you want to be when you Grow Up: Haven't really decided... God knows. (No, He really does.)
What country would you most like to Visit: Anywhere and everywhere.
In a Boy/Girl..
Favourite Eye Color: Uhh... Depends on the person. But I have a slight weakness for clear blue eyes or puppy brown eyes. Heehee.
Favourite Hair Color: Depends again... But I also have a slight weakness for thick slightly wavy brown hair.
Short or Long Hair: Short, preferrably... But some guys - especially some Brits and almost Australia - can pull off long-ish floppy hair.
Height: Taller, definitely
Weight: Don't really care, but not obese and yet not skinny beanies.
Best Clothing Style: Whatever makes him comfortable, but not effete nor a slob. He must know when to dress up.
Number of CDs I own: Um... 25 or more. But I have an iPod.
What's your favorite...
Beverage (non-alc) ? No real preference.
Color ? Black and silver.
Food ? I like all sorts of food
Feature on yourself ? Eyes
Quality in a guy/girl ? Um... Depends, but eyes come pretty high on my list.
Song ? Too many. At the moment, I really like Last Train to London by Electric Light Orchestra and You'll Come by Hillsong Live
Musical Artist/Band ? Too many, although I'm a big fan of Coldplay and Hillsong. My dad is getting me into ELO, so that's awesome. They're undeniably catchy. ELO, I mean. Coldplay can be catchy, too :-D.
Movie ? Too many
TV Show ? House M.D.
Type of Chocolate? Milk.
Eye Color? No preference.
Do you/Have you ever...
Have any pets ? Yeah, but none at the moment
Been to an island ? Born on one. Singapore!
Had stitches ? No, and thank goodness
Slept until after 12:00 ? Noon? No. Midnight - of course. I'm a teenager ;)
Stayed up all night ? Yyyeeaah. Yes.
Which friend...
Is the funniest ? Ummmmm.... Too many funny people in my life. But the ones that come to mind now are Trevor and Isaac V.
Is the loudest ? Um, probably me, although Amanda can be pretty loud, too, but in a different way
Is the craziest ? Me, Emma H.... Charlotte C and Margie can be pretty nuts, too :D. (That night in Subway after youth... Lol!)
Is the most shy ? Um... Sara Grace? Or Claire G... But they aren't shy, they just appear to be. I love you guys. I don't really have shy friends.
Is the most loving ? Charlotte V, definitely. And Jessica C.
Is the most understanding ? Jessica C., Charlotte V., Sara Grace
Do you look up to the most? It depends on which aspect of life.
Do you tell everything to ? Charlotte V., Jessica C. I would tel Emma everything, but she lives HALFWAY ACROSS THE WORLD.
What do you think of when you hear...
Eminem ? Idiotic white people trying to be black... But don't get me wrong - Eminem is a good rapper
Orange ? And lemons. something something bells of Saint Clements.
Real world ? Fake world. Everything is relative
Jack ? Hammer, Harkness, Sparrow...
Cucumber ? Larry!! Veggietales! Sunday Morning Values, Saturday Morning Fun - Now that's a Big Idea ;-)
Hip-Hop ? Stuff that has a potential to be good only for the pretentious culture that goes with it...
Uniform ? Polka-dots (my school had polka dots on our uniform, which doesn't look as bad as it sounds) and weird Catholic schoolgirl fetishes.
Unicorn? Horns and demons... Haha.
Rainbow ? Sappiness and Skittles. You're so fat you sat on a rainbow and skittles popped out!! Sorry... I don't believe in that. Haha.
Clown ? Murderers. Yeah. And painted faces.
Name: Miki
Birthday: 18 September, 199-
Eye Color: Dark brown
Hair Color: Black, black, black
Height:148 cm (I hate being short)
Your Heritage: Asian - Chinese :-)
Your Weakness: People I pity, people whom I think can't do the job well, good food, books, music
Goal You Would Like To Achieve This Year: Grow taller? The year is ending
Thoughts First Waking Up: Great... A new day... Great...
Pepsi or Coke: Coke all the way - that is if I get around to drinking it... Haha
MacDonalds or Burger King: Burger King
Chocolate or Vanilla: Don't really care... It depends. How about both?
Cappuccino or Coffee: I don't drink either
Do you Smoke: Nope
Do you Swear: um... Only when I'm extremely upset. Honest.
Do you Sing: Yes. It's one of the talents I do well.
Do you want to go to College: Yeah, and to university after that as well
Do you want to get Married: Yes - and have kids, too, at that
Are you a Health Freak: Not really... I mean, I feel guilty when I have fast food too many times, I drink quite a lot of water, and I stay away from snacks...
Do you get along with your Parents: Yes
Do you like Thunderstorms: It depends...
How do you want to Die: Gracefully.
What do you want to be when you Grow Up: Haven't really decided... God knows. (No, He really does.)
What country would you most like to Visit: Anywhere and everywhere.
In a Boy/Girl..
Favourite Eye Color: Uhh... Depends on the person. But I have a slight weakness for clear blue eyes or puppy brown eyes. Heehee.
Favourite Hair Color: Depends again... But I also have a slight weakness for thick slightly wavy brown hair.
Short or Long Hair: Short, preferrably... But some guys - especially some Brits and almost Australia - can pull off long-ish floppy hair.
Height: Taller, definitely
Weight: Don't really care, but not obese and yet not skinny beanies.
Best Clothing Style: Whatever makes him comfortable, but not effete nor a slob. He must know when to dress up.
Number of CDs I own: Um... 25 or more. But I have an iPod.
What's your favorite...
Beverage (non-alc) ? No real preference.
Color ? Black and silver.
Food ? I like all sorts of food
Feature on yourself ? Eyes
Quality in a guy/girl ? Um... Depends, but eyes come pretty high on my list.
Song ? Too many. At the moment, I really like Last Train to London by Electric Light Orchestra and You'll Come by Hillsong Live
Musical Artist/Band ? Too many, although I'm a big fan of Coldplay and Hillsong. My dad is getting me into ELO, so that's awesome. They're undeniably catchy. ELO, I mean. Coldplay can be catchy, too :-D.
Movie ? Too many
TV Show ? House M.D.
Type of Chocolate? Milk.
Eye Color? No preference.
Do you/Have you ever...
Have any pets ? Yeah, but none at the moment
Been to an island ? Born on one. Singapore!
Had stitches ? No, and thank goodness
Slept until after 12:00 ? Noon? No. Midnight - of course. I'm a teenager ;)
Stayed up all night ? Yyyeeaah. Yes.
Which friend...
Is the funniest ? Ummmmm.... Too many funny people in my life. But the ones that come to mind now are Trevor and Isaac V.
Is the loudest ? Um, probably me, although Amanda can be pretty loud, too, but in a different way
Is the craziest ? Me, Emma H.... Charlotte C and Margie can be pretty nuts, too :D. (That night in Subway after youth... Lol!)
Is the most shy ? Um... Sara Grace? Or Claire G... But they aren't shy, they just appear to be. I love you guys. I don't really have shy friends.
Is the most loving ? Charlotte V, definitely. And Jessica C.
Is the most understanding ? Jessica C., Charlotte V., Sara Grace
Do you look up to the most? It depends on which aspect of life.
Do you tell everything to ? Charlotte V., Jessica C. I would tel Emma everything, but she lives HALFWAY ACROSS THE WORLD.
What do you think of when you hear...
Eminem ? Idiotic white people trying to be black... But don't get me wrong - Eminem is a good rapper
Orange ? And lemons. something something bells of Saint Clements.
Real world ? Fake world. Everything is relative
Jack ? Hammer, Harkness, Sparrow...
Cucumber ? Larry!! Veggietales! Sunday Morning Values, Saturday Morning Fun - Now that's a Big Idea ;-)
Hip-Hop ? Stuff that has a potential to be good only for the pretentious culture that goes with it...
Uniform ? Polka-dots (my school had polka dots on our uniform, which doesn't look as bad as it sounds) and weird Catholic schoolgirl fetishes.
Unicorn? Horns and demons... Haha.
Rainbow ? Sappiness and Skittles. You're so fat you sat on a rainbow and skittles popped out!! Sorry... I don't believe in that. Haha.
Clown ? Murderers. Yeah. And painted faces.
Wednesday 22 October 2008
Feist - We're All in the Dance
10 things I expect in a good friend.
- Godliness - I'm a Christian and I do appreciate a friend that can pray for me, I can pray for and can pray together with. Also, it's easier when you share the same ideals as your friend. Although I have no qualms about being friends with non-Christians, I don't think I can become as close to them because of issues about stuff, i.e. pre-marital sex, goals in life...
- Loyalty
- Humour - to tell jokes and to take my jokes. I like making people laugh. Sometimes, as with all jokes, I can accidentally hurt people. I don't mean to. People with good humour usually understand that I'm teasing them and get over it. I know a few people whom I think haven't really.
- The ability to accept me for me - for the obvious reasons. But if you think about it, only a person able to accept you for you can be considered a good friend.
- An appreciation of music - because music is a very large part of my life. One thing I love doing is analysing music, like comparing different bands and seeing how one band has influenced another, et cetera.
- The love of reading - not especially important.
- Brains - I.Q.!
- Sensitivity - E.Q.!
- The ability to know when to stop being goofy and immature. (Probably 'cause sometimes I struggle with this. I tend to be goofy when I shouldn't be and overly serious when it's really the wrong time.)
- The love for old-fashioned things and new-fangled gadgets - because I'm a bit like that.
This list is a bit weird, I think... I don't really have a set list. I try to take people as they are and, if we click, we click.
Tuesday 21 October 2008
Darlene Zschech - Call Upon His Name
My favourite fictional book of all time is I Capture the Castle by Dodie Smith. I was first introduced to the book after I became a fan of Romola Garai, absolutely loving her performance in Amazing Grace. The unusual title (you don't understand it until you read the book) prompted me to watch the trailer on Youtube. The trailer presented a storyline so quaint and interesting that I resolved to find the movie and watch it.
Then, a few weeks' later, I was at a Jessica C's house for a sleepover. Jess has an impressive bookcase; it's my favourite part about going over to her house. I saw I Capture the Castle among the titles and cried out, "Can I borrow it please?" However, the book was given to her by a beloved grandmother, and she wasn't willing to lend it out. I'm a sentimental person myself; I don't blame her.
I found the book at the library when I returned to Singapore for a visit. Because the book was too long for me to read within two weeks' (I had three other thick books to finish), I flipped through it very briefly, although I could tell how rich and textured the story was, and how beautiful the language used.
Then, I bought the book. It's been no turning back since then - I'm a die hard fan.
The story is the diary of Cassandra Mortmain, a seventeen-year-old girl living in a derelict castle with her father Mortmain - a former bestselling author who is suffering from a financially-crippling writer's block -, her stepmother Topaz - an eccentric beauty who was a former model -, her beautiful older sister Rose, her younger brother Thomas and their help/friend Stephen. Their lives are turned upside down by the arrival of the grandsons of their late landlord. Simon and Neil Cotton are American, rich and good looking, although Simon has a beard which Cassandra dislikes.
Eventually, through her flirtatiousness and beauty, Rose becomes engaged to Simon, the older of the two brothers. However, Cassandra finds herself falling for Simon as well. Someone once said something to the effect of, "Cassandra was poised between childhood and adultery."
Dodie Smith wrote this story while she was living in America during a fit of homesickness. She took two years to finish the story, constantly rewriting every word of it and even making a model of the castle. She was so determined to make it work. I have to say that her efforts did not go wasted.
This story is for people who love intelligent romances with average-looking heroes and heroines, quirky characters and a somewhat realistic ending. I've read the book over five times and I've never wanted the story to end. And yet, if someone were to write the ending of the book (as Alexandra Ripley did with Gone with the Wind), it would ruin the whole bittersweetness of the story.
I would recommend this story to anyone. (So far, I have one successful convert.) Read this book - you won't regret it.
Monday 20 October 2008
James Blunt - You're Beautiful
It's about eleven days to NaNoWriMo and I haven't really decided what I'm going to write... I mean, I have all these ideas buzzing through my head but I haven't had the time (or the patience) to sit down and actually plan my thoughts out. I tried to do it yesterday, during a very boring lecture, but it didn't amount to much...
Anyway, here are my ideas. Since I am pretty much an aspiring historian, my topics are pretty much immersed in history. I love historical fiction... (May I just make a pitch for my favourite historical fiction writer of all time - Rosemary Sutcliff. She is the undethronable, unusurpable [those are probably synonyms, but they sound impressive. Especially the latter] Queen of Historical Fiction.)
a) The life of a Polish Jewish teenager after being liberated from Auschwitz;
b) A German teenager, now a liason for American forces in her village, is forced to face what her people - and even the own members of her family - have done during the war;
c) Anita lives with her father in a remote location in the north of England. When two outsiders come to their house, secrets are revealed and things start to change;
d) Charlotte, or Charlie, finds a letter from 1940 in which a girl confesses that she's in love with someone else. Charlie sets herself on a quest to find out if the two realised their happily-ever-after, and if "love is only true in fairytales".
So that's where I've gotten so far... I think it's pretty okay. I think I'll send my ideas to a friend to ask for her opinion. She's a writer as well, but I don't think she's doing NaNoWriMo.
Anyway, here are my ideas. Since I am pretty much an aspiring historian, my topics are pretty much immersed in history. I love historical fiction... (May I just make a pitch for my favourite historical fiction writer of all time - Rosemary Sutcliff. She is the undethronable, unusurpable [those are probably synonyms, but they sound impressive. Especially the latter] Queen of Historical Fiction.)
a) The life of a Polish Jewish teenager after being liberated from Auschwitz;
b) A German teenager, now a liason for American forces in her village, is forced to face what her people - and even the own members of her family - have done during the war;
c) Anita lives with her father in a remote location in the north of England. When two outsiders come to their house, secrets are revealed and things start to change;
d) Charlotte, or Charlie, finds a letter from 1940 in which a girl confesses that she's in love with someone else. Charlie sets herself on a quest to find out if the two realised their happily-ever-after, and if "love is only true in fairytales".
So that's where I've gotten so far... I think it's pretty okay. I think I'll send my ideas to a friend to ask for her opinion. She's a writer as well, but I don't think she's doing NaNoWriMo.
Saturday 18 October 2008
Kate Rusby - Planets
I wish...
I was a better Christian.
I were more artistic.
I could take better photographs.
I could fit in more easily with people.
I didn't like being alone so much.
I would never be afraid to be me.
I could love better.
I would learn to let myself go.
I would learn to take risks.
I would know how to have fun in every situation.
I were more artistic.
I could take better photographs.
I could fit in more easily with people.
I didn't like being alone so much.
I would never be afraid to be me.
I could love better.
I would learn to let myself go.
I would learn to take risks.
I would know how to have fun in every situation.
all these could come true.
Wednesday 15 October 2008
Coldplay - X&Y
I used to get annoyed during Sunday School, during arts and crafts, when they'd hand us little stickers that said "Jesus Loves ______." I used to think that it was insensitive, that it looked incomplete and crude if I penciled in my name next to the orderly printed words, that it feels as if the teachers didn't take the time to put my name down, that it could be any old Tom, Dick or Harry putting their name in there. If my name was printed there, it was meant to be there.
But now, I realise that it doesn't matter whose name you put in there, printed or not. Jesus does love (insert name here) . You can be Tom, Dick, Harry, Greg, Bob, Larry, Miki... whatever. He does love you no matter who you are or what you've done.
But now, I realise that it doesn't matter whose name you put in there, printed or not. Jesus does love (insert name here) . You can be Tom, Dick, Harry, Greg, Bob, Larry, Miki... whatever. He does love you no matter who you are or what you've done.
Jesus loves you
*g*
Thursday 9 October 2008
Coldplay - Don't Panic
We (Pepe, Pepe's niece Pepe, Gracie, Charlotte V and I) went to see Elton John & Tim Rice's Aida last night at the Shanghai Majestic Theatre (66 Jiang Ning Road, Shanghai; 上海市江宁路66号）. It was quite interesting... I'm going to give a brief review of it here.
The singing was excellent, although their articulation was either very poor or the music was turned up too loud. It took me a while to like Marja Harmon's (Aida) voice, but once the musical got into full gear, it really began to impress. Leah Allers's (Amneris) voice was extremely powerful, and she definitely showed the change in her character very clearly. Although in the plot, Casey Elliot's (Radames) character was caught between these two women, he supported himself very well. However, Vincent D'Elia (Zoser) annoyed me... Not only could I not hear what he was singing, but his voice was really nasal and almost whiney.
The music was a bit predictable, though... Let's just say it was very "pop" and screamed of Elton John's influence. You could just hear him bleeding through the melodies and piano riffs. Anyway, I daresay they could've used a big more strings... But what can I say? - I'm a violinist. (Or at least, I try to be.) Also, there's this one part where the slaves are singing, "Aida, Aida, Aida." It sounded suspiciously similar to the part in Evita where the Argentinean masses are singing, "Evita, Evita, Evita."
Of course, not that I'm accusing anyone of anything...
But there were some really good songs like The Gods Love Nubia (I nearly cried) and Elaborate Lives. So, yeah.
The orchestration was excellent. We later met the Musical Director and Conductor, Daniel Bailey. He was a really nice guy. He signed my program for me. (I'll admit that I'm a bit of an autograph hunter, but not in the obsessive sort of way... More of a sentimental thing.) Anyway, Charlotte got really happy because he said he used to play piano in church. (We weren't talking religion... He just asked if we wanted to come for the matinee today, which is the last performance, but we said we had church. That's how it came up. We're not freaky Jehovah Witness-esque Christians.) Anyway, he was awesome.
(Mr. Bailey, if you're reading this - you're awesome and the musicians in the pit are underappreciated.)
Now, the plot.
Personally, I didn't dislike the plot; it just wasn't the one for me. I prefer plots with lots of depth. (Think Les Miserables and Wicked.) Maybe because I couldn't hear the music, but I thought the plot was pretty... Predictable? But on the bright side, I did like the way Amneris's character transitioned from spoilt brat to next leader of Egypt. And the dialogue was quite clever. Overall, it wasn't a fluffy Mamma Mia! plot.
I bought the soundtrack, but it turns out that it wasn't the Original Broadway Cast or anything... At least it's got people like Tina Turner and Sting singing on it. But then I can't play it on my computer because my sound isn't working... I've been listening to my iPod nonstop.
Does anyone know what the heck an SPDIF interface is?
The singing was excellent, although their articulation was either very poor or the music was turned up too loud. It took me a while to like Marja Harmon's (Aida) voice, but once the musical got into full gear, it really began to impress. Leah Allers's (Amneris) voice was extremely powerful, and she definitely showed the change in her character very clearly. Although in the plot, Casey Elliot's (Radames) character was caught between these two women, he supported himself very well. However, Vincent D'Elia (Zoser) annoyed me... Not only could I not hear what he was singing, but his voice was really nasal and almost whiney.
The music was a bit predictable, though... Let's just say it was very "pop" and screamed of Elton John's influence. You could just hear him bleeding through the melodies and piano riffs. Anyway, I daresay they could've used a big more strings... But what can I say? - I'm a violinist. (Or at least, I try to be.) Also, there's this one part where the slaves are singing, "Aida, Aida, Aida." It sounded suspiciously similar to the part in Evita where the Argentinean masses are singing, "Evita, Evita, Evita."
Of course, not that I'm accusing anyone of anything...
But there were some really good songs like The Gods Love Nubia (I nearly cried) and Elaborate Lives. So, yeah.
The orchestration was excellent. We later met the Musical Director and Conductor, Daniel Bailey. He was a really nice guy. He signed my program for me. (I'll admit that I'm a bit of an autograph hunter, but not in the obsessive sort of way... More of a sentimental thing.) Anyway, Charlotte got really happy because he said he used to play piano in church. (We weren't talking religion... He just asked if we wanted to come for the matinee today, which is the last performance, but we said we had church. That's how it came up. We're not freaky Jehovah Witness-esque Christians.) Anyway, he was awesome.
(Mr. Bailey, if you're reading this - you're awesome and the musicians in the pit are underappreciated.)
Now, the plot.
Personally, I didn't dislike the plot; it just wasn't the one for me. I prefer plots with lots of depth. (Think Les Miserables and Wicked.) Maybe because I couldn't hear the music, but I thought the plot was pretty... Predictable? But on the bright side, I did like the way Amneris's character transitioned from spoilt brat to next leader of Egypt. And the dialogue was quite clever. Overall, it wasn't a fluffy Mamma Mia! plot.
I bought the soundtrack, but it turns out that it wasn't the Original Broadway Cast or anything... At least it's got people like Tina Turner and Sting singing on it. But then I can't play it on my computer because my sound isn't working... I've been listening to my iPod nonstop.
Does anyone know what the heck an SPDIF interface is?
Wednesday 8 October 2008
Todd Agnew - Grace Like Rain
I used to think that the world got worse as I grew older. In a way, that is true. However, I've slowly learnt that the world hasn't grown worse; I've just become more aware of its fallen and twisted state.
I won't say that I was and am a sheltered child. I've always known to some extent that the world is full of sin. Perhaps this is due to my Christian upbringing... My parents did not hide subjects like adultery, murder, rape or the Holocaust from me when I was growing up. When I had a question about a touchy subject, they always answered truthfully and honestly.
But when I was on Wikipedia today, I came across this picture from the Bosnian War. And then I realised - this happened the year I was born. There were girls who were my age then who were suffering the day I was born. While I was living my miserable, depressed, self-centred existence, they were truly miserable and suffering.
It's as if they had a right to be depressed.
I won't say that I was and am a sheltered child. I've always known to some extent that the world is full of sin. Perhaps this is due to my Christian upbringing... My parents did not hide subjects like adultery, murder, rape or the Holocaust from me when I was growing up. When I had a question about a touchy subject, they always answered truthfully and honestly.
But when I was on Wikipedia today, I came across this picture from the Bosnian War. And then I realised - this happened the year I was born. There were girls who were my age then who were suffering the day I was born. While I was living my miserable, depressed, self-centred existence, they were truly miserable and suffering.
It's as if they had a right to be depressed.
Monday 6 October 2008
Jonathan Rhys Myers - This Time
I didn't really know what to write about for the past few days until I received an e-mail today from my subscription of Daily Writing Tips... It gave a few "creative generator" things, and I decided to use the Imagination Prompt Generator. Anyway, the prompt I like the best is
How old would you be if you didn't know your real age?
I've just turned fifteen a couple of weeks ago... Sometimes - sometimes - I feel a lot older than my age... Maybe it's because of my friends. I mean, they're lovely people, but they're always asking me for things like tissue paper, water, and lip balm. I seem to be the only one who carries a bag... Better yet, I seem to be like the Dora the Explorer of my group, the one whose backpack contains everything. Also, my friends are always falling into problems which I don't seem to encounter very much... I find it easier to talk to people a lot older than me sometimes, although they probably mostly think of me as a little kid (although I am fifteen)...
It's a bit like Cassandra Mortmain in I Capture the Castle (I love that book; everyone should read it at least once in their lifetime). She was seventeen when the book begins, but you feel that she's a lot older. Then, enter Simon Cotton, who keeps thinking of her as a little kid (maybe because she's Rose's younger sister), when we the readers really know that she's mentally older than that.
Age is just a number to me. I don't know why the world gets so hyped about "Acting your age." I know for some people, it means "grow up! Get a life!". For me, it seems to condemn mentally mature people into the stereotype of brainless teenagers who joke about sex and condoms and girls and all that crap.
Anyway, I would age myself at about eighteen - the age where you're old enough to understand and to talk and function almost like an adult, and yet you have the random bursts of hyperactiveness and randomnity. But I'm short for my age, so maybe I will end up aging myself at fifteen anyway...
Gah.
How old would you be if you didn't know your real age?
I've just turned fifteen a couple of weeks ago... Sometimes - sometimes - I feel a lot older than my age... Maybe it's because of my friends. I mean, they're lovely people, but they're always asking me for things like tissue paper, water, and lip balm. I seem to be the only one who carries a bag... Better yet, I seem to be like the Dora the Explorer of my group, the one whose backpack contains everything. Also, my friends are always falling into problems which I don't seem to encounter very much... I find it easier to talk to people a lot older than me sometimes, although they probably mostly think of me as a little kid (although I am fifteen)...
It's a bit like Cassandra Mortmain in I Capture the Castle (I love that book; everyone should read it at least once in their lifetime). She was seventeen when the book begins, but you feel that she's a lot older. Then, enter Simon Cotton, who keeps thinking of her as a little kid (maybe because she's Rose's younger sister), when we the readers really know that she's mentally older than that.
Age is just a number to me. I don't know why the world gets so hyped about "Acting your age." I know for some people, it means "grow up! Get a life!". For me, it seems to condemn mentally mature people into the stereotype of brainless teenagers who joke about sex and condoms and girls and all that crap.
Anyway, I would age myself at about eighteen - the age where you're old enough to understand and to talk and function almost like an adult, and yet you have the random bursts of hyperactiveness and randomnity. But I'm short for my age, so maybe I will end up aging myself at fifteen anyway...
Gah.
Monday 29 September 2008
Dario Marianelli - Two Figures By a Fountain
It's quite interesting playing sports with Americans... I mean, not saying that they play it differently than we do; but it's just the entire general atmosphere of the court.
At the moment, we're learning volleyball. We're being taught by two mums who've played in high school, and one of them went on to play for her university. (I think it's University of Illinois; she was wearing a t-shirt with "alumni" and a Native American's chief head on it.)
I've never played volleyball before, but back home in Singapore, I was actively involved in my school's netball team. Netball, mostly played by Commonwealth nations, is a bit like basketball, except that there's no board behind the net, the ball looks like a volleyball and mostly girls play it - in skirts. (Ha.)
When we didn't do something right, or if we threw the netball kind of weird and to a pointless corner of the court, the coach would stop the game and go something like, "No! Don't do that!" It wasn't verbal abuse, but it didn't encourage you in the common sense of the word.
However, with these two volleyball coaches - especially the College Volleyball Mum....
Okay - I suck at serving in volleyball. When we were having practice, it was my turn to serve, and I said, "I suck at serving." She came over and said, "Okay, babe - here's what you have to do..."
I don't know about you, but whenever someone says "babe", I think of Latino men in singlets and leather jackets, or the cute little pig in the James Cromwell movie.
So I served, and the ball went in the opposite direction that I intended. I looked over sheepishly, expecting her to shake her head and say something like, "No, you should've used the heel of your hand like I told you to." Instead, College Volleyball Mum said, "That's alright! That's alright. Use this" - she indicated - "part of your hand next time, though. But it's okay. It was a pretty good start."
Heh.
And the terminology they use is different, too. I tend to watch more British television shows, so words like "shag" to me means "to have sex with someone". The first volleyball practice I went to, CVM (College Volleyball Mum) was shouting, "Shag the ball! Shag the ball!"
Needless to say, I started having dirty - verging on kinky - thoughts playing through my mind for almost all of practice.
But it's fun playing with them, I guess... It's fun doing a team "land sport" again. I've mostly been doing swimming, which is definitely not a team land sport. It's fun to play with my friends, despite the differences in coaching styles in that I'm used to...
I mean, "Go team!" right?
At the moment, we're learning volleyball. We're being taught by two mums who've played in high school, and one of them went on to play for her university. (I think it's University of Illinois; she was wearing a t-shirt with "alumni" and a Native American's chief head on it.)
I've never played volleyball before, but back home in Singapore, I was actively involved in my school's netball team. Netball, mostly played by Commonwealth nations, is a bit like basketball, except that there's no board behind the net, the ball looks like a volleyball and mostly girls play it - in skirts. (Ha.)
When we didn't do something right, or if we threw the netball kind of weird and to a pointless corner of the court, the coach would stop the game and go something like, "No! Don't do that!" It wasn't verbal abuse, but it didn't encourage you in the common sense of the word.
However, with these two volleyball coaches - especially the College Volleyball Mum....
Okay - I suck at serving in volleyball. When we were having practice, it was my turn to serve, and I said, "I suck at serving." She came over and said, "Okay, babe - here's what you have to do..."
I don't know about you, but whenever someone says "babe", I think of Latino men in singlets and leather jackets, or the cute little pig in the James Cromwell movie.
So I served, and the ball went in the opposite direction that I intended. I looked over sheepishly, expecting her to shake her head and say something like, "No, you should've used the heel of your hand like I told you to." Instead, College Volleyball Mum said, "That's alright! That's alright. Use this" - she indicated - "part of your hand next time, though. But it's okay. It was a pretty good start."
Heh.
And the terminology they use is different, too. I tend to watch more British television shows, so words like "shag" to me means "to have sex with someone". The first volleyball practice I went to, CVM (College Volleyball Mum) was shouting, "Shag the ball! Shag the ball!"
Needless to say, I started having dirty - verging on kinky - thoughts playing through my mind for almost all of practice.
But it's fun playing with them, I guess... It's fun doing a team "land sport" again. I've mostly been doing swimming, which is definitely not a team land sport. It's fun to play with my friends, despite the differences in coaching styles in that I'm used to...
I mean, "Go team!" right?
Thursday 25 September 2008
Duffy - Mercy
I used to think that everyone was an actor, that everyone could carry out a simple role in a drama. (We're not all Peter O'Tooles and Meryl Streeps.) However, I've learned today that acting doesn't come naturally to everyone.
I'm not just talking about the whole self-conscious issue. I'm talking about those logic-orientated, scientifically wired minds - there are steps to everything, and always a right answer to everything. In drama, as we thespians know, there are no right or wrongs in interpreting a role.
Let's talk about an actor's nightmare role - Hamlet.
One of the best known actors who's portrayed Prince Hamlet, Edwin Booth (brother to Lincoln's assassin, incidentally), portrayed the ill-fated son of Denmark as a quiet, thoughtful, sensitive man. His portrayal is considered one of the best in the history of theatre.
Edwin Booth as Hamlet, c. 1870
(source: Wikipedia)
In a more recent production, Ed Stoppard (son of Shakespeare in Love writer and famed playwright Tom Stoppard) played the Prince Denmark as, what I perceived from the reviews, a little indecisive (perhaps because Stoppard's Hamlet was younger) and fast-talking (not in the John Leguizamo way) with just the right touch of madness.
Ed Stoppard as Hamlet
(source: indielondon.com)
Hundreds of actors from Richard Burbage (original Hamlet) to David Tennant (current Hamlet on the West End) have portrayed Hamlet, and they've all done it differently. They did it as their "actory sense" told them to. There's no logic in acting besides the fact that you have to logically think how your character would react in that situation. However, unlike most "logical issues", there's no right and wrong to that one.
I'm not just talking about the whole self-conscious issue. I'm talking about those logic-orientated, scientifically wired minds - there are steps to everything, and always a right answer to everything. In drama, as we thespians know, there are no right or wrongs in interpreting a role.
Let's talk about an actor's nightmare role - Hamlet.
One of the best known actors who's portrayed Prince Hamlet, Edwin Booth (brother to Lincoln's assassin, incidentally), portrayed the ill-fated son of Denmark as a quiet, thoughtful, sensitive man. His portrayal is considered one of the best in the history of theatre.
Edwin Booth as Hamlet, c. 1870
(source: Wikipedia)
In a more recent production, Ed Stoppard (son of Shakespeare in Love writer and famed playwright Tom Stoppard) played the Prince Denmark as, what I perceived from the reviews, a little indecisive (perhaps because Stoppard's Hamlet was younger) and fast-talking (not in the John Leguizamo way) with just the right touch of madness.
Ed Stoppard as Hamlet
(source: indielondon.com)
Hundreds of actors from Richard Burbage (original Hamlet) to David Tennant (current Hamlet on the West End) have portrayed Hamlet, and they've all done it differently. They did it as their "actory sense" told them to. There's no logic in acting besides the fact that you have to logically think how your character would react in that situation. However, unlike most "logical issues", there's no right and wrong to that one.
Wednesday 24 September 2008
KT Tunstall - Heal Over
My great-grandfather died last night. He was ninety-one-years-old. I suppose our government's happy because he's one of the last few people they pay pension to. In Singapore, we don't have a a pension plan anymore, rather something we call a CPF. I have no idea what that means, and I don't really care. My great-grandfather used to be in the civil service, so he got all his medical and stuff free...
He's been mostly bedridden for the past couple of years... I'm old enough to remember him when he still could walk and talk somewhat. Once in a while, my whole family (great-uncles and -aunts, cousins, nieces, nephews... We're very extended family orientated, we Asians) would take him out for a nice dinner, and we'd have some goofy things going like karaeoke. That was always good fun. I don't remember him singing, though.
He's outlived his wife and one daughter, who died more than a year ago of stomach (was it colon?) cancer. I cried for Aunty Lucy, but I didn't really cry for him...
Most of what I know of him was told to me by my grandparents and father. Apparently he was quite a capable but hard and stingy man... I don't know if he is anything of a Scrooge, but sometimes the way he dealt with his sons make me think that he is that way. My two great-uncles (or granduncles, as we say back home) became estranged from their father over the years, and we don't even see the older of the two anymore.
At least my parents are home in Singapore at the moment. I wish I could be there, though. It's quite funny because I'm the oldest of the oldest of the oldest. My father was the oldest grandson and oldest son of my grandmother, who is the oldest child on the family. (Come to think of it, it sounds like something out of The Dark is Rising sequence. Good books, by the way.) The funeral is on Saturday. My parents say they'll cut out the obituary for my sister and me.
R.I.P.
He's been mostly bedridden for the past couple of years... I'm old enough to remember him when he still could walk and talk somewhat. Once in a while, my whole family (great-uncles and -aunts, cousins, nieces, nephews... We're very extended family orientated, we Asians) would take him out for a nice dinner, and we'd have some goofy things going like karaeoke. That was always good fun. I don't remember him singing, though.
He's outlived his wife and one daughter, who died more than a year ago of stomach (was it colon?) cancer. I cried for Aunty Lucy, but I didn't really cry for him...
Most of what I know of him was told to me by my grandparents and father. Apparently he was quite a capable but hard and stingy man... I don't know if he is anything of a Scrooge, but sometimes the way he dealt with his sons make me think that he is that way. My two great-uncles (or granduncles, as we say back home) became estranged from their father over the years, and we don't even see the older of the two anymore.
At least my parents are home in Singapore at the moment. I wish I could be there, though. It's quite funny because I'm the oldest of the oldest of the oldest. My father was the oldest grandson and oldest son of my grandmother, who is the oldest child on the family. (Come to think of it, it sounds like something out of The Dark is Rising sequence. Good books, by the way.) The funeral is on Saturday. My parents say they'll cut out the obituary for my sister and me.
R.I.P.
Monday 22 September 2008
Jamie T - Operation
Two singers I have mixed feelings about...:
(Alphabetical listing time!)
a. Miley Cyrus; and
b. Charlotte Church.
A. Miley Cyrus
Speaking from a singer and music connoisseur's point of view, there isn't anything great about her voice. I mean, yes, she can sing better than most fifteen-year-olds (I'll admit that she can project better than I can, but I don't have a singing coach), but there's nothing special about her voice. Some singers I'll listen to them once, and their voice will stay in my head forever. (Duffy, at the moment, is playing over and over in my head although I've only heard her song Mercy today once.) I've heard Miley Cyrus/Hannah Montana songs more than once before, but I don't really remember what she sounds like. I suppose parents like her because she's squeaky clean, suggestive iPhone and Vanity Fair photos notwithstanding. But there isn't any substance in her songs, even in her non-Disney affiliated album. Yes, they sound catchy and good, but they don't hit you right there emotionally. Sorry, Miley - stick to acting. I'll admit you're a pretty good comedienne.
B. Charlotte Church
I preferred her when she was operatic, but I think, due to singing vocally challeging songs since young, her voice began to decline towards the end of her classical career. I've heard some of her earlier work, and her voice did used to be quite pure and clear. Her more recent operatic work reveal a huskier voice and a rather uncontrolled vibrato. Charlotte Church is (in)famous for her extremely wobbly lips and jiggling jaw, which betray bad posture and support, or so I've heard. But it is true that if you watch videos of Charlotte Church singing, say, O Mio Babbino Caro, and then watched the "queens of opera" like Kiri Te Kanawa, Montserrat Caballe (my favourite version), and Maria Callas sing, you'll see how violent she wobbles her lips and jaw. I felt sorry for her when I heard her sing O Mio, because she was definitely forcing herself to hit the high note. She looked like she was going to die - the desperation was so great in her eyes. Perhaps it is better that she has crossed over to pop. If you're reading this, Charlotte - I don't dislike you. Please get a better vocal coach.
(Alphabetical listing time!)
a. Miley Cyrus; and
b. Charlotte Church.
A. Miley Cyrus
Speaking from a singer and music connoisseur's point of view, there isn't anything great about her voice. I mean, yes, she can sing better than most fifteen-year-olds (I'll admit that she can project better than I can, but I don't have a singing coach), but there's nothing special about her voice. Some singers I'll listen to them once, and their voice will stay in my head forever. (Duffy, at the moment, is playing over and over in my head although I've only heard her song Mercy today once.) I've heard Miley Cyrus/Hannah Montana songs more than once before, but I don't really remember what she sounds like. I suppose parents like her because she's squeaky clean, suggestive iPhone and Vanity Fair photos notwithstanding. But there isn't any substance in her songs, even in her non-Disney affiliated album. Yes, they sound catchy and good, but they don't hit you right there emotionally. Sorry, Miley - stick to acting. I'll admit you're a pretty good comedienne.
B. Charlotte Church
I preferred her when she was operatic, but I think, due to singing vocally challeging songs since young, her voice began to decline towards the end of her classical career. I've heard some of her earlier work, and her voice did used to be quite pure and clear. Her more recent operatic work reveal a huskier voice and a rather uncontrolled vibrato. Charlotte Church is (in)famous for her extremely wobbly lips and jiggling jaw, which betray bad posture and support, or so I've heard. But it is true that if you watch videos of Charlotte Church singing, say, O Mio Babbino Caro, and then watched the "queens of opera" like Kiri Te Kanawa, Montserrat Caballe (my favourite version), and Maria Callas sing, you'll see how violent she wobbles her lips and jaw. I felt sorry for her when I heard her sing O Mio, because she was definitely forcing herself to hit the high note. She looked like she was going to die - the desperation was so great in her eyes. Perhaps it is better that she has crossed over to pop. If you're reading this, Charlotte - I don't dislike you. Please get a better vocal coach.
Saturday 20 September 2008
Dashboard Confessional - Vindicated
There's an episode of House where Wilson (*swoon*) goes to House while they're in the coma guy's room and says something like, "You need people to like you," and House replies, "I don't need people to like me."
I often ask myself if I need people to like me... I mean, I like people to like me, but do I need them to like me?
At this point in my life, I essentially have two best friends - Char and Jess. I used to see Char almost every day, hang out with her every day. Jess I don't see as much (and I'm really sorry about that) but we're crazy when we're together. I don't feel a lack when I don't see my friends for more than three days... Maybe it's that "isolated homeschooler syndrome" getting to me.
I usually don't care when people don't like me. I don't go out of my way to make them like me. It doesn't make me insecure that people don't like me. The beauty about the situation when someone doesn't like me usually is that I don't like them either. But I don't hate anyone's guts. I'll still say hi to them and not spread malicious rumours about them, and I hope they'd at least do the same for me. You know.
Confession here: When I was in fifth grade, I started a hate club. I don't really recall why I did so... I think 'cause the girl was rich and liked the same guy as me. She was really tall and reasonably pretty (a bit of a Taiwanese pop star, but she was Taiwanese anyway), and thus the boys - including the guy I liked - paid her more attention. Love does make you do stupid things. I haven't seen her since I left the school.
I know that I'm not a very easy person to like. I'm very self-aware of my flaws, believe it or not. I know I can be grumpy, sarcastic, insensitive, impatient, random, crazy, overly outspoken, and I think sometimes I appear condescending. I'm not condescending by nature, I think. Sometimes I don't know how to relate to certain people, and when I try, it comes off as condescending. But I'm not naturally that way.
My sister is an easier person to like. She's generally quiet, very sweet, and always appears helpful. As her older sister, I know better (haha); but no, I will admit that she's very easy to like. And she's pretty, too.
Don't tell me, "You're not ugly!" I don't think I'm ugly, but I don't think I'm stunning, either. I'm not tall, I'm not slender/skinny, I generally don't make an effort everyday to look as if I'd just stepped out of the pages of a magazine. (I mean, if you ask me to dress up for a certain event that isn't a wedding or formal dinner, I'd complain about it, but I'd do it willingly enough.) But I think once you get to know me, I think we'd get along pretty well.
But isn't that always the case?
I often ask myself if I need people to like me... I mean, I like people to like me, but do I need them to like me?
At this point in my life, I essentially have two best friends - Char and Jess. I used to see Char almost every day, hang out with her every day. Jess I don't see as much (and I'm really sorry about that) but we're crazy when we're together. I don't feel a lack when I don't see my friends for more than three days... Maybe it's that "isolated homeschooler syndrome" getting to me.
I usually don't care when people don't like me. I don't go out of my way to make them like me. It doesn't make me insecure that people don't like me. The beauty about the situation when someone doesn't like me usually is that I don't like them either. But I don't hate anyone's guts. I'll still say hi to them and not spread malicious rumours about them, and I hope they'd at least do the same for me. You know.
Confession here: When I was in fifth grade, I started a hate club. I don't really recall why I did so... I think 'cause the girl was rich and liked the same guy as me. She was really tall and reasonably pretty (a bit of a Taiwanese pop star, but she was Taiwanese anyway), and thus the boys - including the guy I liked - paid her more attention. Love does make you do stupid things. I haven't seen her since I left the school.
I know that I'm not a very easy person to like. I'm very self-aware of my flaws, believe it or not. I know I can be grumpy, sarcastic, insensitive, impatient, random, crazy, overly outspoken, and I think sometimes I appear condescending. I'm not condescending by nature, I think. Sometimes I don't know how to relate to certain people, and when I try, it comes off as condescending. But I'm not naturally that way.
My sister is an easier person to like. She's generally quiet, very sweet, and always appears helpful. As her older sister, I know better (haha); but no, I will admit that she's very easy to like. And she's pretty, too.
Don't tell me, "You're not ugly!" I don't think I'm ugly, but I don't think I'm stunning, either. I'm not tall, I'm not slender/skinny, I generally don't make an effort everyday to look as if I'd just stepped out of the pages of a magazine. (I mean, if you ask me to dress up for a certain event that isn't a wedding or formal dinner, I'd complain about it, but I'd do it willingly enough.) But I think once you get to know me, I think we'd get along pretty well.
But isn't that always the case?
Wednesday 17 September 2008
Dominic Cooper & Amanda Seyfried – Lay All Your Love On Me
From two well-known examples of our time, the formula to getting your blog noticed is
a) An interesting writing-style and wit; and
b) Sex.
(I really like these alphabetical points thing.)
The examples I’m referring to are Diablo Cody’s Pussy Ranch (which led to her book The Unlikely Stripper –or something to that effect – and eventually the screenplay for her hit movie, Juno) and Belle de Jour’s Diary of a London Call Girl (which lead to her books Confessions of a London Call Girl – or something to that effect – and eventually to the ITV2 serial starring Billie Piper, Secret Diary of a Call Girl). Both, incidentally, are hosted on Blogger.
Diablo Cody was a stripper who wrote about her stripping experiences on her blog and Belle de Jour writes of her sexual escapades as a call girl. Personally, I find Belle de Jour’s blog a lot more interesting than Diablo Cody’s. But that’s just my opinion. I love Juno more than I love Secret Diary of a Call Girl, though. I watched one episode of the latter and think it’s just a lame excuse to put semi-pornographic material on late night television. You might as well just go for the real thing, if you think about it that way.
N.B. I did not watch Secret Diary for the sake of sex. I watched it because I am a hardcore (no pun intended) fan of Billie Piper’s best-known character, Rose Tyler from Doctor Who. (I wept so hard when I watched Doomsday.) Thanks to the Billie Piper + Belle de Jour combination, I couldn’t help but wince when Rose reappeared in the last few episodes of Doctor Who, because I couldn’t help but think, What’s she been doing in the parallel world all these months? Thank you, Billie, for teaching me to stop typecasting actors.
It’s sad, really, that the “good stuff” has to have to have a bit of sex or romance in it. Don’t get me wrong – I don’t mind romance. But like the romance where they have to consummate their relationship before it’s official. (Think Ryan Philippe and Reese Witherspoon in Cruel Intentions.) I mean, even that squeaky clean Nancy Drew movie with Emma Roberts had to have a kiss in it.
I’ve never been in a relationship, but from examples I’ve seen from people like my parents or fictional stuff in movies/T.V. shows, love shouldn’t have to be proven by consummation or kissing. True love does wait. Love is patient, love is kind.
I don’t want this entry to turn into a pro-abstinence (which I am, actually) or religious sermon. I’m just expressing my disappointment and annoyance at the world.
This is pretty much about as much sex that will appear in this blog. Take it or leave it.
a) An interesting writing-style and wit; and
b) Sex.
(I really like these alphabetical points thing.)
The examples I’m referring to are Diablo Cody’s Pussy Ranch (which led to her book The Unlikely Stripper –or something to that effect – and eventually the screenplay for her hit movie, Juno) and Belle de Jour’s Diary of a London Call Girl (which lead to her books Confessions of a London Call Girl – or something to that effect – and eventually to the ITV2 serial starring Billie Piper, Secret Diary of a Call Girl). Both, incidentally, are hosted on Blogger.
Diablo Cody was a stripper who wrote about her stripping experiences on her blog and Belle de Jour writes of her sexual escapades as a call girl. Personally, I find Belle de Jour’s blog a lot more interesting than Diablo Cody’s. But that’s just my opinion. I love Juno more than I love Secret Diary of a Call Girl, though. I watched one episode of the latter and think it’s just a lame excuse to put semi-pornographic material on late night television. You might as well just go for the real thing, if you think about it that way.
N.B. I did not watch Secret Diary for the sake of sex. I watched it because I am a hardcore (no pun intended) fan of Billie Piper’s best-known character, Rose Tyler from Doctor Who. (I wept so hard when I watched Doomsday.) Thanks to the Billie Piper + Belle de Jour combination, I couldn’t help but wince when Rose reappeared in the last few episodes of Doctor Who, because I couldn’t help but think, What’s she been doing in the parallel world all these months? Thank you, Billie, for teaching me to stop typecasting actors.
It’s sad, really, that the “good stuff” has to have to have a bit of sex or romance in it. Don’t get me wrong – I don’t mind romance. But like the romance where they have to consummate their relationship before it’s official. (Think Ryan Philippe and Reese Witherspoon in Cruel Intentions.) I mean, even that squeaky clean Nancy Drew movie with Emma Roberts had to have a kiss in it.
I’ve never been in a relationship, but from examples I’ve seen from people like my parents or fictional stuff in movies/T.V. shows, love shouldn’t have to be proven by consummation or kissing. True love does wait. Love is patient, love is kind.
I don’t want this entry to turn into a pro-abstinence (which I am, actually) or religious sermon. I’m just expressing my disappointment and annoyance at the world.
This is pretty much about as much sex that will appear in this blog. Take it or leave it.
Tuesday 16 September 2008
Daniel Powter - Love You Lately
First of all, I have to admit that I haven't actually finished reading Twilight. I have this theory that God doesn't want me to waste my brain cells on that garbage because each time I tried to borrow it,
a) It wasn't their copy;
b) I had to leave; and
c) They left it in another country (this only seems to happen when you're a third-culture kid).
But I've read enough to know that Stephanie Meyer is a terrible writer, especially for someone who has spent money on a B.A. in English from a reasonably good university (Brigham Young University), and her characters are some of the stupidest I've come across in a bestselling book.
When I reread the old stuff I've written, I wince at my use of adjectives, my attempts at explaining the thoughts going on in my character's heads and just the entire plot. Especially when I tried to write fantasy. Reading Stephanie Meyer was like rereading my old stuff. Only ten times worse, because she's an adult that's actually got a college degree in the language.
First of all, her characters are really dumb people. Bella Swan (is it with two "n's"? I don't remember) is supposed to be a sarcastic girl. When she first arrives in school, someone asks her why she's so pale, and she says, "My mother's part albino."
Um... Okay. That would actually make some sense, if you don't think about it, because albinism is inherited anyway.
And then there's the whole "beautiful Cullens" thread. I mean, shut up about their good looks already! I got that five chapters ago. I'm not a guy, I appreciate a good looking man, but I just got flipping annoyed about how good looking, well-muscled and perfect Edward Cullen is supposed to be. The "well-muscled chest" and "beautiful hands" made me want to smack Stephanie Meyer in the face.
Then there's the sickening devotion between Bella and Edward... A lot of teenage girls will say, "Oh, Edward threw himself in front of a van for Bella's sake!" Considering that he is a vampire, has supernatural strength and can't die unless someone hammers a stake through his heart, that isn't so much of a loss for him.
And then, when Bella goes shopping with friends, Edward saves her from being raped/robbed/whatever. Okay, that's nice of him... Then he confesses that he followed her.
Uh, that's not devotion. That's the sign of a stalker. And last I checked, stalkers are creepy, even in Forks.
Many reviews say that teenagers will identify with the feelings of alienation expressed in the novel. Well, the minute Bella Swan walks into high school, a guy falls for her, another asks her out to two dances (including the prom) and she has gained the attention of the supposedly hottest guy in school. (Gaining the attention of someone, even though he has the strong desire to kill you, is attention nontheless.)
Yeah, the Twilighters might say, "You're just jealous that Edward Cullen isn't yours."
Let me reply by saying, "He isn't yours either."
a) It wasn't their copy;
b) I had to leave; and
c) They left it in another country (this only seems to happen when you're a third-culture kid).
But I've read enough to know that Stephanie Meyer is a terrible writer, especially for someone who has spent money on a B.A. in English from a reasonably good university (Brigham Young University), and her characters are some of the stupidest I've come across in a bestselling book.
When I reread the old stuff I've written, I wince at my use of adjectives, my attempts at explaining the thoughts going on in my character's heads and just the entire plot. Especially when I tried to write fantasy. Reading Stephanie Meyer was like rereading my old stuff. Only ten times worse, because she's an adult that's actually got a college degree in the language.
First of all, her characters are really dumb people. Bella Swan (is it with two "n's"? I don't remember) is supposed to be a sarcastic girl. When she first arrives in school, someone asks her why she's so pale, and she says, "My mother's part albino."
Um... Okay. That would actually make some sense, if you don't think about it, because albinism is inherited anyway.
And then there's the whole "beautiful Cullens" thread. I mean, shut up about their good looks already! I got that five chapters ago. I'm not a guy, I appreciate a good looking man, but I just got flipping annoyed about how good looking, well-muscled and perfect Edward Cullen is supposed to be. The "well-muscled chest" and "beautiful hands" made me want to smack Stephanie Meyer in the face.
Then there's the sickening devotion between Bella and Edward... A lot of teenage girls will say, "Oh, Edward threw himself in front of a van for Bella's sake!" Considering that he is a vampire, has supernatural strength and can't die unless someone hammers a stake through his heart, that isn't so much of a loss for him.
And then, when Bella goes shopping with friends, Edward saves her from being raped/robbed/whatever. Okay, that's nice of him... Then he confesses that he followed her.
Uh, that's not devotion. That's the sign of a stalker. And last I checked, stalkers are creepy, even in Forks.
Many reviews say that teenagers will identify with the feelings of alienation expressed in the novel. Well, the minute Bella Swan walks into high school, a guy falls for her, another asks her out to two dances (including the prom) and she has gained the attention of the supposedly hottest guy in school. (Gaining the attention of someone, even though he has the strong desire to kill you, is attention nontheless.)
Yeah, the Twilighters might say, "You're just jealous that Edward Cullen isn't yours."
Let me reply by saying, "He isn't yours either."
Monday 15 September 2008
Coldplay - Violet Hill
I honestly do like blogging. I've tried to blog many a time, but China usually ends up blocking the blog-hosting website, which annoys me greatly. If China really wants to "open up to the world", they should start with their own people, which means not blocking Wikipedia and Youtube during crisises like the Tibet situation earlier this year. (I probably shouldn't be writing this, but if China blocks it, it's not my fault and you know the severity of their paranoia.)
The only problem with blogging is I never quite know what to write about... I suppose I'll find something to write in the days to come...
Good thing the SAT isn't like blogging. (Whoa... That'd be really fun, actually.) I took the SAT last June to qualify for the Johns Hopkins University CTY, and I thought it was kind of fun. (I didn't do brilliantly, but enough to qualify for the English section of their CTY. I've only done one course so far... It's so flipping expensive!) In the essay section, they wanted us to write something about people becoming a better person through hard times. I ended up writing about Batman or something to that effect...
Yeah, that's me for you. My friends think I'm scary sometimes at the really random connexions I make. I mean, I don't do it all the time. If you've played Pass the Word
(Pass the Word: a game where you sit in a circle and someone says a random word [no proper nouns], such as, "Chickens." The next person will think of the word that comes immediately to mind, like, "Coward." You can take the word in any way that you want. No repition, no hesitation. Good luck.)
with me, you know that I make okay connexions, although I've made references which the younger kids I've played with don't get.
I can get pretty morbid, too, actually. When I was in England this summer, I went to a cemetery with a friend, and I was thinking about what I would like on my headstone when I'm dead... Then I came up with this.
Me: Hey, Charlotte. Guess what? Let's say a teenager dies, right? You could put on his headstone something like, "Brian has... gone to his room."
Referencing, of course, the verse in the Bible where Jesus says he has gone ahead of us to prepare a room.
Char: [pause pause pause] Yes, Miki.
That's what she usually says when I say something that freaks/annoys/scares/amuses/bugs her. She says it a lot, actually.
The only problem with blogging is I never quite know what to write about... I suppose I'll find something to write in the days to come...
Good thing the SAT isn't like blogging. (Whoa... That'd be really fun, actually.) I took the SAT last June to qualify for the Johns Hopkins University CTY, and I thought it was kind of fun. (I didn't do brilliantly, but enough to qualify for the English section of their CTY. I've only done one course so far... It's so flipping expensive!) In the essay section, they wanted us to write something about people becoming a better person through hard times. I ended up writing about Batman or something to that effect...
Yeah, that's me for you. My friends think I'm scary sometimes at the really random connexions I make. I mean, I don't do it all the time. If you've played Pass the Word
(Pass the Word: a game where you sit in a circle and someone says a random word [no proper nouns], such as, "Chickens." The next person will think of the word that comes immediately to mind, like, "Coward." You can take the word in any way that you want. No repition, no hesitation. Good luck.)
with me, you know that I make okay connexions, although I've made references which the younger kids I've played with don't get.
I can get pretty morbid, too, actually. When I was in England this summer, I went to a cemetery with a friend, and I was thinking about what I would like on my headstone when I'm dead... Then I came up with this.
Me: Hey, Charlotte. Guess what? Let's say a teenager dies, right? You could put on his headstone something like, "Brian has... gone to his room."
Referencing, of course, the verse in the Bible where Jesus says he has gone ahead of us to prepare a room.
Char: [pause pause pause] Yes, Miki.
That's what she usually says when I say something that freaks/annoys/scares/amuses/bugs her. She says it a lot, actually.
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