Buffy Season 7 is awe-fucking-some.

Season seven of Buffy is just a culmination of some of the best damn writing in TV history. Well, it is. Taking a look at the writing credits, it is pretty damn obvious that they rolled out the big wigs for most of the episodes. Every third episode has two writers credited to it. And Jane Espenson, my second favourite writer on Buffy (after the God himself, Joss Whedon), is heavily involved in most of the episodes. To quote Logan in Veronica Mars, season one episode four, "I think Keanu Reeves said it best when he said 'Whooooaa'." If you have no idea who or what the quote is referring to then bad you! Did you not get your fill of lame '80s movies while growing up?

Last Sunday, I had made well-thought out plans to be comfortably seated on my couch (or as comfortable as one can get on this crap College Square calls 'couch') to catch the Commonwealth Games closing ceremony. Come 5 pm, I was asleep on the couch, my tired body finally relenting to the pleasures of rest, no thanks to a total of an hour's worth of sleep the night before. Many lifetimes later, my bleary eyes open and what do you know? It's twelve am. The next day I watch the spectacular fireworks on the news and read about it in the papers and listen to how you could infact see the fireworks from College Square from the Chairman. Gorram it..

I am suffering from Sammy withdrawals. I need my Snakes! Also, this week because everyone's busy, I'm probably going to go a week without my fill of Spaghetti too. Damn school and it interfering in our social lifes. I'll just compensate by watching more Buffy! How does that work? Hell if i know.

I heart Melb Uni

Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god!

*hyperventilating*

Buffy Season 7. Out now in the ERC library. On 7 day loan. Fuckin' hell..

Good lord. Thy kingdom has indeed come!

The Empire Games 2006

Malaysians: guilty of being rabid supporters of the beloved national Badminton team.

Karen + AddieLee: guilty of being part of the gila-flag-waving-diehard-Malaysian-Boleh-WAHHHH!-'Eh, eh, we're on the screen' Malaysian mob at the badminton doubles preliminarites at the Games.


plus


equals


*I love that picture of Ad and I taken with her oh-so-fancy Samsung phone. Now that's what you call shit-eating grins.

Our fanatism paled in comparison to Ben, a first year student from Monash Clayton campus, who with his buddies truly displayed the 'Malaysian Boleh' spirit, if their energetic flag-waving (they had multiple flags. They came prepared.) is a yardstick to judge Malaysian enthusiasm by. I reckon it would have been almost embarassing had we not both been chiming in in the 'Malaysia Boleh' and 'Ole, ole' chants.

Ben quickly ran down to get Wong Choong Hann's autograph which we, sceptical lemmings, followed after glimsing his success in getting Wong-chai's attention. Choong Hann was really accomodating; signing autographs, taking pictures, talking to us admirers, long after he needed to. Unfortunately, even the Games players don't have tickets to the final. Here's hoping the organizers release more tickets soon.

Turns out the people sitting behind us were the mom and dad of one Scotland women's team player. After we had gone ape-shit over Malaysian's victory over India, they asked us to kindly lend our support to the Scottish team, which we did without needing much persuasion. There is really nothing funnier than a Malaysian attempting a "Come on, ya Scot-ish" accent in the company of real Scotswoman/man.

Stories of Seth Green

"Karen! Guess who I saw on the tram? I swear I saw Seth Green!"
"No, you didn't."
"Okay maybe I didn't. But there was this guy who looked so much like him!! Adorably dorky features (my words, not her blasphemous ones), red head. I swear it's him!"
"Did anyone else seem to notice him? Autographs or something?"
"Nooo.. But Karen, I swear it looked so much like him!"
"How tall was he Gill?"
"*puts hand an inch or two above her head* About that tall"
"..."
Conclusion: I have never been more grateful for vertically-challenged people. I also have new appreciation for my sister's penchant for wearing 8-inch platforms.

And now, how's this for 'Good Lord, Thy Kingdom Has Come!' shades of awesomeness?

Ahhhh. Perfection.

And now, in response to Michelle's blog-tag:

Current time:
8.41 pm

What are you wearing?
Paper bags and an aluminium hat like the one in Signs. What can I say? I'm excited because Channel Seven is screening Signs this Saturday at 7.30 or so. Again. Did I say again? I meant again.

Name something out of the ordinary on my desk:
I use a laptop. Hence, it's currently sitting on my lap. No, seriously. But then I suppose the question doesn't concern what kind of computer I use. Ermmm. Plastic beer cups. Free souvenirs from Costa Rica.

Current favourite song(s):
That stupid Mario theme has been doing a number on my braincells for a day or two now. Also, DCFC's '405'. And Modest Mouse's 'Gravity rides everything'. Damn. Those songs work to nullify all your musical freewill, so much so that they'll be constantly replaying in your head long after you've taken your headphones off.

Last thing consumed:
It's been two days since I last ate anything. I'm trying out this new diet called 'The Nicole Ritchie'. Hee. Or is that the 'consume lots for 3 minutes only for it to ultimately land in the ceramic of the toilet bowl' diet?

Last phone call received:
The last person who called had to suffer excruciatingly through my grunting. But then again, it was 7 am in the morning.. Nonetheless, I am pleased to say that I have received no other phone calls since then.

Current annoyance:
The dishes are piling up, the shower stall has some yellow muck growing on it, and the toilet bin has to be changed. I'll be damned if I'm the one to do it all. I would also ask you to come in and put your toiletries on my toilet counter but good luck finding a spot beneath the dust balls, cotton fibres and hair.

Plans for the day:
To win the psychological war that's waging between my sister and I. I think that when it comes down to it, the person who walks away victor and cleaning duty-free is the one who's ready to get down and dirty. My gameplan: to hide 3 spoons and one bowl. Everything ends once the other needs a clean spoon and bowl for cereal. Hey, all's fair in avoiding clean-up.

Sadly I don't have any friends to tag. Maybe it's the grunting. Or the funky smell emanating from my apartment. Who knows?

Match Point

Some things just never change.

Three years ago when I was in Form 5 in Malaysia, what would I normally be doing at one thirty in the morning? Well. Who'd have thunk it? The exact damn thing I'm doing three years later in my second year of uni in Melbourne!

David Letterman... My nights just wouldn't be the same without David making a dig at Oprah, Paul playing the role of the perfect musically-inclined sidekick and Biff going on highly amusing excursions that reflect the strange land of America.

Today's mini-segment: 'Stupid human tricks'.

Ahhh. Nights don't get any better than this.

A clergyman just drank some beer while doing a handstand.

Heh. His face went a startling colour of on-the-verge-of-a-cardiac-arrest.

A random dude just hopped around on one stilt.

WTF. That's just Dumb. That's dumb, with a capital D.

Some girl "is going to make music with her toes". Direct quote, I swear. She's whistling through her toes.

WTFF? That's flying ..., in case you were wondering.

X3- an utter disappointment?

What gives? Where the bleeping hell is Gambit?

If they could successfully cast Jean Gray, Professor Xavier, Magneto, Wolverine (note the specific exception of Rogue. And Storm.) then where did they slip up when it came to Gambit? If they could even find some random dude (canny resemblance admittedly) to fill Christopher Reeve's shoes and play the titular character of Superman then the matter of casting shouldn't technically be a problem?

Plus, Brett Ratner behind the director's chair? No offense to him (Rush Hour 1 &2 were amusing but no directing spectacle) but I was really looking forward to see what Matthew Vaughn would come up with. After Layer Cake, which by the way has the most awesome 'whoa' opening sequence, I personally thought Matthew Vaughn really had something going on. Think visuals that have just the right amount of slickness. Oh well.

I give up. Yeah yeah. I'll still contribute to X3's total gross.

-End rant.

In one of my politics class, the lecturer screened a Republican-created video about President George W. Bush. It chronicled his rise to presidency. In one scene, the narrator mentioned something pertaining to George Bush and his wit. Naturally, the lecture theatre burst out in laughter.

I mean. This from the guy who said 'I believe that human and fish can co-exist together'. Or something along the lines, operative words being human, fish and the high possibility of co-existence. You can't really help it, you know?

Some pictures to make my post seem longer:

Ad's first day dealing with 'The Man' at Monash.















Does this not give a reason to my absolutely valid fear of pigeons?

Note the lengths companies will go to to prevent legal ramifications. They care, *Sob*, they really do care!

*Insert title here*

-----------------> 'Inmates' by The Good Life.
Possibly the best nine minute plus song out there together with Iron & Wine's 'The Trapeze Swinger'. If you're going to start hollering about Green Day's 'Jesus of Suburbia', give me a second to explain. This is my blog and what I say goes. HA! Also, 'JoS' uses five different chord arrangements. Which I suppose could be considered a marvel in it's own right, but I'm talking about songs that use one running tune throughout the whole nine minutes. In this age where people's attention span last about as long as, OI! CAN YOU PLEASE HAVE THE DECENCY TO FINISH READING THIS PARAGRAPH? (Ooo.. Shiny eBay pop-up! Hello material possessions!) Ermm.. right. And that's why songs like 'Inmates' and 'The Trapeze Swinger' stand out all the more for their ability to keep the listener hooked for the duration of the song.

And if that's not the kind of music that's up your alley, then check out Arctic Monkeys. I don't know what it's like anywhere else, but the Melbourne music scene has been buzzing about these band lately. And with damn good reason too. 'I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor', their first single promises a rollicking almost-3-minute tune that bucks the current crop of electro-synthesized pop propogated by Kaiser Chiefs, The Killers, or any other recent UK band. Thank god! Bring in the drums, the accent and you can't help but be swaggering to the in-your-face debut single Arctic Monkey. If that's not enough, check out 'Fake Tales of San Francisco'. Hot damn! Say hello to the new face of the U.K. pop/rock scene.

There's a new club in Melbourne Uni this year. The Joss Whedon Appreciation Club. Heh. Needless to say you are reading the blog of a newly appointed member of said club.

I am currently saving up to get Dead Like Me Season 1 DVD. You should be doing that too.

After reading a whole assortment of blogs, I've come to realize that I lack a few skills needed to be skilled (duhhhhh) at maintaining an entertaining blog.

#1. I do not write candidly about my life. Self-censorship, dudes.
#2. I cannot make a mundane event seem fun and completely ass-kicking, either through wit or excessive photo-shopped pictures, because well, mundanity is as mundanity does.
#3. I cannot write a post that seem ambiguous and random but is obviously an angst-filled piece about the bastard of the day, mainly because angsty child I am not.
#4. I lead an uneventful life. No alcohol-fuelled nights at clubs with disastrous consequences to blog about, no guy I fancy to gush about, no stories about quirky MSN conversations (partly due to my intense dislike for all things MSN-related) and la-di-da. You get the picture.
#5. I do not have 153,567,345 contacts, which are essential for being players in a highly amusing blog post.

Together with Sammy, I have an audition this Tuesday for a student production. What sets this apart from previous auditions is this is for a musical. A musical. Huh.

(Me thinks I need to re-think the "Sureeeee. Why not?" attitude I practice in life.)

Now, while dear ol' musically-inclined Sam (Yes Sam) is going to rock the audition, yours truly who's previous audience has comprised of the four walls that make up the bathroom is gulping down air frantically in attempts to quelch the nervousness that has taken up permanent residency in her stomach.

Huh indeed.

Rilek y'all.

One Miss Adeline Lee + mum in tow arrived in Melbourne safely on Monday. She's currently hanging out at Caulfield doing the orientation thing. She's currently unhappily taking 3 minute showers in her apartment. Hee.. That's something I'll let her rant about when she gets her broadband up and running.

My schedule is out for Semester 1 2006. And all you people can just keel over and die in awe right about.... now. It's fantastic. Perfectly constructed so that it's impossible for me to miss any tutorial or lecture (read: the majority four out of five days I start at 2.15 pm) and there's still time for me to work and play (Friday's off plus all that extra time in the morning). *Insert cheesy smiley with extra broad grin*. Factor in my oh-so-busy 11 hour week and there you have it: I so rock.

Yeah, I really do.

Commonwealth 2006. There's enough of us here now to make a perfectly respectable noise level to cheer on the Malaysian badminton team, hello Ka Seong, Alex, Ivy. Jenshen, Daryl and I calculated that with all the badminton bigwigs out there unable to compete due to ya know, not being conquered by the English in the past, we might actually have a pretty good shot at making it quite far into the tournament. After much debate about the state of Denmark (Embarrasingly, it took us quite a while to figure out that they're not part of the Commonwealth nations. Sejarah-shmejarah) we sussed out that our biggest competitors would be England and Singapore. And Singapore's only a threat just cause our Southern neighbour has that Indon guy, pfft tosh. Plus, tickets are like $15 per head, which is what, the price of a movie ticket? Boleh larh. That is assuming of course that Malaysia cracks it's usual 'Tim Henman' syndrome (Why oh why do you keep doing this to me, Timmy?) and doesn't lose those easy matches and win random hard ones.

Should be all systems go. Anyone want to go support your home team, jump on the bandwagon. The more, the noiser eh?

Just almost.

Oh, the almost cleverness of me!

I have corrected 1 (Statscounter link) and a half (comments is up!) of the grievances stated before and I'm currently feeling pretty smug. Yes folks. It is indeed a work in progress. I don't think anyone can post comments yet, cause I know nothing happens when I click the comments link, but feel free to prove me wrong. Apparently if you have any kind of Internet security system or popup killer thingymajig, the window just won't open and although I have corrected that with my Norton, I have yet to leap out of my bed screaming 'Eureka! Eureka! at this present hour due to a case of abso-fucking-lutely nothing happening. Yes, I might be a tad bit frustrated too.

Today marks the first time in my life my money's mysteriously disappeared and oh, does my heart hurt. Even when I lost my wallet that one time, there were no bills or coins inside, which, come to think of it, is probably why the police officer seemed less than impress when I reported my wallet's value at 6 bucks (which is the price I paid for it, but boy was it pretty). I withdrew AUD$70 today when I went for lunch. And somewhere during the time when I paid for a Italian B.M.T. at Subway to when I paid for a Chocolate Frappe at Macca's (you tend not to think of the calories after an 8 hour shift), 50 bucks went missing. So I've narrowed it down to two possibilities.

#1. I simply dropped the 50 when I was taking out the 20 to pay for lunch, which is actually pretty possible considering my wallet type (just one note/coin space).

#2. Someone at work took the cash out of my wallet and pocketed it, which is also not entirely impossible as I had left my wallet in the pigeon hole in the changing rooms.

And although this completely bites and blows my budget for tomorrow (the arrival of a certain Siao Cha Bo, who holds the number 2 position, quite proudly if I may add.. Hello Ad!), life goes on and you can only glower for so long. Therefore, to the fella who might have found a 50 note on Elizabeth St today, consider yourself a lucky bastard. And to the co-worker who might have stole from me, there's no doubts that you are one fucking bastard.

[/Edit]
I know what's wrong. To comment you either need to turn off your popup window murderer or configure it to allow Haloscan to open. Heh heh. I was, err... careless before. My bad.

I am quite the genius! Golly gee and knock me over with a tumbleweed but I think I'm actually done fixing up my template. There you go folks! This is Who gives a rat's ass? year 2006.

Screw the fact that the entry page is slightly aneroxic and that the titles suffer from a slight case of invisibility. I mean... at the end of the day, who does give a rat's ass, eh?

One Sunday idled away and a brand spanking new layout beckons

4 things I'm not too crazy about:

#1. I can't get my Statscounter link on no matter how I fiddle around with the template.
#2. The entry page could be bigger.
#3. The title doesn't come up in the contents area.
#4. And as you'll soon find out, I can't put up the comments page. I have fiddled and diddled but it ain't showing up. Oh heck. Guess the tagboard sure does come in handy right about now.

Nonetheless I'm completely digging the layout, enough so that I actually dared to confront my fear of HTML and apply the skin to my blog. Take that HTML! Although in retrospect, I suppose it did one four up me. Huh.

"It came from below." ...... "What? You mean the third floor?"

My Top 5 weird/random admissions:

#1. What is weird? The polar opposite of normal, maybe. But then what is normal? Who determines where the line is drawn between normalcy and weirdness? If you go by the opinion that normalcy is dictated by how the majority acts, what then happens when the majority is wrong? For instance, through one man's powerful words and extreme brain-washing (plus, one hell of an obedient army) one race was persecuted. How is that normal? But then I suppose death is normal. "The only thing is ever certain". Can anyone ever come up with a cure to prolong life? So much so that by your 600th year of living you find that death seems more appealing than ever. Hey isn't that something out of Harry Potter Book #1? Something about how death is the next adventure for the living, who was it that mentioned that... the guy who created the philosopher's stone? Wait, but then again that could have written on the back of a cereal box due to it's extreme cliche-ness. Hmmm... I wonder if anyone else reads the back of cereal boxes? That reminds me. Don't ever bother try to find some new cereal brand even if it promises six more vitamins and additional acid folate than Crunchy Nut, cause even if CN is less healthy it sure as hell packs a whole lot more taste, being of course it actually has some taste to it... Ugh. I detest yogurt. It looks like diarrhea warmed over with some fake strawberry flavouring inserted to make it seem edible. Must be the 97% (well, insert your chosen ninety-something percentage so long as it's higher than the competitor's, but make sure it goes no higher than 99.99% cause no one would believe that something is 100% fat-free, except maybe cardboard. But then again no one would admit to eating cardboard due to fear of being cast as a social pariah). (And that kid in Special Ed is excepted, because goddamn, he's in Special Ed!). I bet so long as you slap a __% fat free sticker on a food item, somewhere some sucker will buy it. Hee. I live with one.
Sometimes my mind goes off into tangents like this. But then again I'm sure yours does as well.

#2. Just in case your eyes glibbed over the paragraph above, here's the one important fact you should know about me: I detest yogurt.

#3. I had a four and a half years sabbatical off pork. In Costa Rica/America, I started eating it again. Goddamn. Bacon is goooooooooood.

#4. When it comes to music, like many others I know of, my biggest musical influence is, well, me. Now, while my brother is 3 years my junior in terms of age and lightyears behind in the case of maturity (at times when we're hanging, it's unclear who's actually ahead), he is the person I turn to for new suggestions. Don't get me wrong. The songs friends have suggested are usually alright but they just don't sit well on my playlist resulting in my finger clicking the delete button (sorry guys). E.g. The Bravery- Honest Mistake. When Jon suggested it to me, I thought, 'Oh dear god, is he losing his touch?' only to realize that soon I was bopping along to the song. Jesus Christ, does that kid wield some sort of power or what?

#5. I have the same bed sheets as Sammy Snakes. Who coincidentally almost owned my other sheets, had the shop not ran out of stock. Snakes also almost owned the identical pair of sheets that Charmie-Charm-Charm has (the paint-splattered one) until, if I remember the story correctly, the shop ran out of stock too. With reference to the first identical pair of sheets Sam and I own, what are the odds eh? We didn't even know of each other's existence yet. I mean, afterall, we only got it from this shop called IKEA.

---------

The holidays are almost coming to an end. School starts on the 27th apparently. It's so strange to think that come this year I'll be walking down the halls and pathways of Melbourne Uni as a second year student, and in a year I'll be doing so with the label 'GRADUATE' gleaming slightly in my shadows. I'm kidding. Of course third year art students don't walk around with the word SOON-TO-BE-GRADUATE stamped on their foreheads. Number one, there simply isn't enough space to write all that. And number two, DESPERATE will already be imprinted on their foreheads, furrowed brows perfectly highlighting the rising panic in their eyes, which in turn provides a great complement to the jittery movements the high-strung, highly-caffeinated (cause big kids drink coffee, hell yeah) students make as they realize the time has come to face the music, and we're talking the BIG music now, not just the miniscule one that cropped up during the end of primary school and again in secondary school.

Or am I the only one who thinks that perfectly encapsulates the final year student's being?

Can't be. There's a hell lot of blogs out there reiterating what I just said (except with less amusing imagery, if I may say so myself).

How do you rehash a month's worth of memories into a reader-friendly post?

Answer: You don't.

Hee.

Real answer: I don't know how to.

To say that it was 'really good' doesn't do my memories justice. Neither does saying it was 'mind-blowing, god-awesome, effing-brilliant stuff'. By the end of the one month, I've become so used to the travelling life that waking up in my bed the day after I got back evoked a momentary but pretty potent sense of disappointment, empty refridgerator not providing the least bit comfort.

I suppose the difference with Costa Rica compared to any other place I've travelled to so far, is the fact that it wasn't an English-speaking country, thus, providing me with very little choice but to actively immerse myself in the local language. And while I was practicing mis-pronounced Tico Spanish, whether consciously or not, a lot of the local culture became
ingrained into my life. Be it from adoring pinto (rice and beans basically, but don't let the blandness of the description fool you into thinking that the food was sister to cardboard) to setting my natural body clock to Tico time whilst on the Caribbean Coast (essentially a lot like Malaysian time - never punctual, constantly late) to understanding the basis behind the Nicaraguan jokes (like Malaysia and Indonesia, a lot of Ticos blame Nicaraguans for taking up local jobs although these are the jobs that the locals don't want), the hardest thing about leaving Costa Rica behind is having all these new ticks within me with no outlet to express it or any conceivable way to sustain it either.

Oh heck. But then I guess (in Southern Belle accent) "tomorrow is another da-ie", innit?

Here's my attempt at giving a run-through of my trip.

First two weeks
Were spent on the volunteer project. The head of our host family has been working with the Costa Rican Ministry of Agriculture for 25 years plus and he uses his house as an example of how organic farming works. Hence, he gets quite a bit of visitors, mostly local farmers who want to learn the techniques and he works with the government on advising local farmers on
how to apply an organic method to their farming lifestyle. What we did was help out around the farm, providing a hand to physical tasks, while personally learning why Costa Rica was pushing for organic farming around the country.

It wasn't all work and no play. We (there were 10 of us) travelled occasionally to the local town for Internet, headed out a couple of nights for dinner and clubbing, and even hit the tourist beach for a day of sun and souvenir shopping on our day off. Plus, the good camaderie between the ten of us made it so that work and life went by easier. What we all were
taken back by was the facilities provided on the farm. The TV on the farm, which had cable access provided us with entertainment. Eg. countless moments were spent debating whether MTV's Laguna Beach starred actors or real kids (my verdict: Like Arrested Development, I maintain it's scripted reality. But goddamn is that show an excuse to play today's latest hit
songs or what?). For those who were under the assumption that I was staying in this ulu-fied place, suffice to say that we actually caught the Golden Globes live on TV.

Last two weeks
Were spent on the adventure tour. We travelled along both the Pacific and Caribbean Coast, staying in some of the best resorts as well as some of the more dodgier ones (think cockroach on the mirror). Allow me to take a second and mock you by saying I have now swam in both the Pacific and Carribean waters. Ha! Among other things, we went kayaking in the rain, horse-riding in the mountains, zip-lining across the forests, white-water rafting down Class 2,3,4 rapids, bike-riding to the beach and snorkelling in the Pacific Ocean. I know. If I were you I'd be jealous too.

Last day before flying out
Were spent in LA. The night before, while flying from Costa Rica to LA, Yoong Mei, you won't believe who was on the same airline parked up in Business Class. As your friend I say you deserve every right to smack my head in when you see me for I failed to get you Sting's autograph. However, I do have something to atone for my mistake. How's a picture of
Sting's star from the Hollywood Walk of Fame sound?

LA was pretty damn fantastic considering the short amount time we spent there (just one night and 3/4 of a day). Charm and I by foregoing a trip to Disneyland instead, flew home with a bunch of decent shopping in our hands. Of course, we did a tour of LA as well, and really, the only thing that put a slight dent into my memory of that day was the fact that I
didn't meet Seth Green. Or Ethan Embry. I did meet Elmo. But who the hell gives a damn about that retarded, annoying blob?

To sum up: you can't go wrong in life my making a trip down there someday.

And yes, I have your souvenirs, kids. Go crazy.

-[edit]-

February the 8th, today a perfect specimen turns 32. Whaaaaaaaaat?!? That's not TOO old.

Also, to the people who have been calling me and leaving me messages. My phone's kinda momentarily screwed right now. It's got, what phone doctors would consider, a mild case of 'overdue-billitis' which unfortunately led to a severe case of 'line-gets-barreditis'. Huh. So apparently I'm only a "worthy customer" so long as I keep my payments on time. Therefore to the lovely people who have contacted me, be patient. Why am I not calling you on my home phone? Ahhh. Sadly the above mentioned disease was pretty lethal and my home phone got afflicted with it too. Damn dirty technology! However, while my phone is unable to make outside calls, it has excellent receiving skills. Feel free to give me a call. And Sammy, sorry I didn't pick up; had a shift.

Brokeback Mountain, first movie of 2006. And hot damn, it's an excellent start. Sets a pretty high bar for this year. I was watching the first quarter of the movie wondering why the hell everyone was raving about Heath Ledger's performance, when it was pretty neat but not buzz-worthy material. Come the end, gee whiz, I am floored.

Finally, Crazy Woman Who is Obsessed With Rent. Breathe. It's coming out here on March 2 (or possibly 19).

Hunt for Seth Green; results? 'Unsatisfactory'

Hey folks.

I'm back.

Leg One of the Journey

In true Karen fashion, 50 minutes before it was time for me to leave to the bus terminal, I was folding my laundry and packing my backpack. While packing up my toiletries, I found that I didn't have spare moisturiser. *Fuck all*. See, with eczema, you just can't take a chance without moisturiser. After a couple of seconds, I realized that Sydney ain't no hick town (my bad)

So, the past 12 hours I've been on a Greyhound bus. While taking a flight would have been indeed a whole lot of hours shorter, I wouldn't have been able to pass the Australian National University in Canberra and find out that there is a Liverpool city in Southwest Sydney.

Next up is tomorrow's flight to New Zealand before we finally fly across the Pacific to Los Angeles, then Costa Rica. I think I've packed everything I need. And I think I've got all the documents I need. So, why exactly is there this nagging feeling in my gut? I shall put it down to paranoia.

Happy 2006 everyone. May your year be spent in good health and good times. Also, I realised that I'm turning nineteen this year. 19. Holy cow. Ka Faii reminded me that if I thought that was bad, the 1986-ers are turning 20. Holy freaking cow indeed.

See ya lot soon!

My Year in Review, Part 1 of 2.

The only reason this isn't the full thing is well, because your eyes are gonna need a break at some point, and I haven't watched Narnia yet. Narnia, to me, is a pretty big event, cause ever since I first saw the trailer in cinemas, I pretty much fell in love with the movie. Blah to King Kong. Narnia's the one I've been waiting for. Right then. Onward with the review.

This year, I decided to stop beating around the agnostic/atheist bush and choose a belief. Where do you put your faith? From something so simple as having faith that the Ah Beng DVD-seller is indeed telling the truth when he says 'the DVD good quality wan!', to having faith in the power of democracy to deliver the public's will, even the most jaded are capable of faith. At the end, I choose to put my faith in people. Simply put, and I mean no offense to the religious out there, I believe that God is merely an excuse too often used, and not a very good one at that. For every action that we take, the consequences we must face as well. That's what I believe. And I also reinforced my faith in Karma. 'What goes around, comes around'; it's the only rule you'll ever have to adhere to. At least that's what I think. Oh, right. That and NEVER EVER skim on toilet paper. It's always worth it to pay the extra fifty-five cents.

This year as well, marked the end a relationship. It's funny how people warn you about the high possibility of growing apart or cheating partners but never of the likelihood of diminished feelings when they hear of couples in long-distance relationships. Anyhow, let me now de-bunk the myth of the impossibility of ex-es (?) being friends. Through the cloud of guilt and heartache, I'm proud to say we remained close friends, right up till present day in fact. I suppose when you're as matured as me, and as somewhat matured as the 'Mighty Jock' (hee), the relationship is salvageable. You're awesome, Prep. Too bad I'm awesome-r.

This year as well a couple of 'jokes' that I pulled ended up having a pretty serious effect in my life. Nothing broken or fractured. In the early half of the year, the result of a joke audition thanks to Sammy Snake putting down my name, resulted in a part in the cast ensemble of Freshers. The play opened me up to the world of uni (I am hesitant to use the word amatuer, because that word somehow does not dignify the amount of time and emotion invested) theatre and indulged my interest in writing scripts. They say university is a time to experience new things. Well, outside of getting pissed drunk on a weekday and running around in the nude on Prosh Week (I saw gibblets. Unsurprisingly, I didn't eat meat for lunch that day), there's certainly never been a better time to get involved with theatre productions.

My application to McDonald's as well started out as a joke. I was barely serious when I applied, believing myself to be 'too good' for such a job. What a slap to the face, indeed. When my lack of experience deterred me from getting any offers, save for a tele-marketing position that required a 45 minute+ commute, Macca's called with the news. Since then, there's been no regrets. There's a really good environment going on - friendly people who are around the same age and most of the time, polite customers. Like any other job, there's stress involved, especially during the breakfast/lunch/dinner rushes. My bad for thinking those with a McJob are low-life automatons. I am, indeed, humbled now.

Part 2 consists of other thoughts regarding family, friends and the Top 3 Movies of the Year Cause I cannot go a post with one reference to pop culture. And some of the most embarassing pictures will be uploaded to illustrate the year. Cause if you can't laugh at yourself, then who can you laugh at? The idiots in the picture, I suppose.

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Also, just for the curious, I changed my project. Now, in Costa Rica, I will be involved with the Finca La Gran Vista project. It's got more interaction with the environment, yet it also remains a community project. I suppose we're helping the community by helping the environment?, if that makes sense.

The main aim of the project is to provide a working example of a farm that operates in a sustainable manner, removing the need to clear new areas of the forest. I'm too darn lazy to type everything out so if you really want to know more, send an email. Here's some of the stuff we will be expected to do: construction, feeding the farm animals, planting seeds, soil conservation, maintenance of medical plants, using and producing organic fertilizer, maintaining the spring-water wells, and harvesting crops. If you're wondering why I changed my project, it's because the moon cycle was not auspicious for my love-life. Hee. I changed it because I can.

Vamos Costa Rica!

Yours truly is ready to travel to Costa Rica. One day-trip to Sydney and voila!, a stamp in my passport says I'm ready for travel. I was talking to the receptionist at the Consulate-General and apparently us Malaysians, if we intend to travel to Costa Rica, have to obtain a visa in person from the closest Consulate General. Closest being Japan or Melbourne. Brilliant really. Previously you could courier your passport and thus save yourself a plane ticket, but new regulations (that even the Consular General admit is completely bogus) state that we have to be at the office in person. It does not help that Malaysia is listed as a Muslim country. God forbid they admit prospective terrorists into a country that according to the Lonely Planet forum, is notorious for pickpockets and robbers.

And because no trip to Sydney is complete without it, here is the obligatory picture of the Sydney Opera House with guest, the Sydney Harbour Bridge.


Now, while the debate continues regarding which state is more superior, I have to admit that Sydney does one up Melbourne on a particular aspect. Krispy Kreme donuts. Holy mother of dough and glazed sugar, Donut King ain't got nothing on them. It's crazy really. No matter how much we try to deny it, American exports are truly essential to modern life. It doesn't have to be the central focus, but it certainly makes our life seem more rich knowing we have other options. Which is ironic cause for every Starbucks or McDonald's that is built on your local block, there goes a local establishment, thus actually limiting our options.

I can't go into an anti-capitalist tirade because besides the obvious fact that I get my spending money from the Golden Arches, I honestly think that I would start eating pork again should Denny's ever open a branch in Melbourne (bacoooonnn). Oh heck. I say countries shouldn't fear the spread of Western influences. Sure, enforce some sort of quota to ensure that the local industry will thrive and make sure that no conglomeration can get around the red tape (Here's looking at you, Murdoch). And yeah, encourage the locals to shop/eat/buy local. But it's crazy to impede the flow of Western media/establishments/brands. Just take a look at China. It's pretty obvious that things aren't quite working out the way the Communist leaders envisioned.

So what then for the future? Should we all just give up hope and wait for the inevitable Starbucks-McDonalds-MTV-Gap-Abercrombie&Fitch filled streets? Also impossible I say. As long as the doors are opened for the local industry, there will be hope. Chris Lilley's We Can Be Heroes is on par with Arrested Development and The Office. Alannah Hill's dresses are so so pretty (also very $$$). Boost Juice's annual profits is an exponential graph.

... Oh crud. I think this became a pro-globalization, whilst thinly-veiled pro-Americanisation tirade. What can I say? You can't hate the land that gave us Buffy afterall.

Right then. I've been thinking about Green Day's American Idiot. And I've come to the realization that it will do what Californication and Morning View did for RHCP and Incubus. Suddenly pimply-faced teens with newly broken voices all over the world will have ditched their Simple Plan t-shirts to don black American Idiot tees. I'm not being elitist and actually think this is a good thing. I mean, more power to good bands, yeah? It's just a little bit weird/creepy when kids start calling Billie Joe 'sexy'. Prior to him putting black eyeliner to good use, I don't recall anyone tagging him with that adjective. It's quite bizarre to think that some eye make-up makes you instant hot stuff.

But then again, after watching the Jesus of Suburbia video clip, I think I'm coming around to that concept. Lou Taylor Pucci, who I previously watched in the indie flick Thumbsucker, looked extremely effiminate with his big blue eyes and delicate features. Then suddenly in the JoS video clip, he's freaking Sid Vicious incarnate and looking totally hot. Strange, huh.

From this:

to this:

See? I'm not just being superficial.

Results of Surfing Online

Hee.

Huh.

Double huh.

Just when I thought I knew it all. Daniel Wu in a music band. Huh indeed. Doesn't change the fact that he still makes for pretty darn good eye-candy.

Today I realised that eating outside to enjoy the sun and the fresh air is completely overrated. While attempting to chow down my meal, I was also busy fending off the flies that threatened to go up my skirt, down my fries and into my burger. To top it all of, there was a stupid sparrow that was hovering pretty darn too close for comfort. I was pretty tempted to throw the beef patty at it, in the hopes of knocking it out but then it occured to me that the sparrow might instead chow down on it and acquire a taste for cow meat. And with a brain that big, the bird will probably think me a cow (wouldn't be the first according to my dad and bro!) and peck my eyes and flesh away. I also considered the fact that the sparrow might choke on the beef patty, but the idea of it flying around crazily while attempting to dislodge the patty isn't exactly too appealing; i.e it might land on me.

Anyway, with a mouth that can fit one hard-boiled egg intact, mind you, it's not too hard to guess what happened in the end, right? Now, I have acquired a taste for sparrow meat. It's like eating miniature chicken wings. Maybe next time I'll actually cook it.

And maybe next time I'll actually do something rather than sit on the bench and think up all the reactions to my actions.

It's undeniable.

It's true. You always hear this kind of talk but no actual confirmation. Well, I'm setting this in stone now (which is kind of funny cause this a blog in cyberspace, probably the total opposite from a physical stone). The prettier or better looking things in life fare better off. Yes, they really do.

Think about it. Those crazy scientists who run really unnecessary experiments which bear really redundant but entertaining results tells us that babies are more attracted to prettier faces. The selection process for reality TV show contestants tells us that your odds are better if you're slim and don't resemble Donatella Versace circa the past 10 years.

Outside of the human world, biology tells us that butterflies and bees are attracted to the more brightly coloured flowers. The annual profit for IKEA tells us that the majority prefers a pretty bedroom to a quality-filled one (it's those damn annual catalogues. Who hasn't wished their bedrooms looked like page 126 in the bedroom section?).

I don't even need to go into the world of Hollywood to justify my statement, do I? But because everyone's thinking it: it's the reason why Bloomboy is undertaking the lead roles in sub-par movies (Elizabethtown) while far superior actors like Steve Buscemi are filling supporting role slots in better movies (Reservoir Dogs. Or if you want a movie of a similar genre, Ghost World).

It's the reason why a collie was casted as Lassie and not this thing:


That's Sam. Yes, it's a dog, not some turned-inside-out rodent that has been dipped into a tub of hydrocloric acid, then given a chemical peel to boot. It holds the title of "World's Ugliest Dog". How's that for understatement of the year?

It's the reason why marble and not granite covers floors of houses.

It's the reason why Apple products are selling. Damn that Powerbook is sure darn pretty.

It's the reason why apples that don't have brown marks on them are being picked at markets.

It's the reason why, oh good god. I'm still recovering from that thing that apparently is a dog. I'm so disgusted.

See? Enough said. So there. Now you don't only know, you actually know that prettier things have it better off. With proof to boot.

It's quite life-affirming to finally have that figured out.

Oh dear god. Can't think anymore. Damn Google images and their results for 'ugly dogs'. Eeeecccch.

One month, mates!

In a month, yours truly will be jetting off to Costa Rica. Lordy, am I excited! Well technically, bus to Sydney, flight to NZ, then stopover at LAX... but you know. Technical-schmenical. We got our travel manuals by mail and received an email telling us what projects we were assigned to yesterday. And boy, am I in love with my project.

ASOCUENCA Community Development Project
Basically, ASOCUENCA is a farmers' association comprising representatives of the Community Development Associations of five communities: Santa Elena, Quizarra, San Francisco, Santa Marta, and MonteCarlo. The mission statement: to protect the watershed of the Penas Blancas River and to aid in the development of the Alexander Skutch Biological Corridor. The corridor will help in the recuperation of the remaining tracts of evergreen tropical rain forest in the country, in specific, the Los Cusingos Sanctuary for Neotropical Birds and Las Nubes Biological Reserve.

What will I be doing?

• Reforestation of farmland located in the corridor
• Maintainence at the school (Teaching English!)
• Construction, maintenence, and painting of public facilities in cooperation with Santa Elena Community Association, the Health Committee, the Sports Committee and the Church Committee.
• Supporting the work at Los Cusingos Reserve, eg. trail construction, planting fruit trees and bushes as food sources for birds and other wildlife, and maintenence of the Historical Alexander F. Skutch Museum
  

It sounds exactly like what I hoped I would get. On my face was plastered a shit-eating grin until I came to a snag. In the daily timetable, it says 6 am: Breakfast. Good lord. That means I actually have to wake up before 6 am. Holy...

I'm still psyched though.

Then, I saw the departure date for the flight. I'll be leaving LAX on Feb 2nd and arriving at Sydney on Feb 4th. Blah. Birthday-Schmirthday. (You'd think this sch-thing business would get old, but it really doesn't).

Yeap.

Still pretty darn psyched.

Tim Canterbury

aka Martin Freeman in The Office, Series 2, Episode 3, Bullseye.

Tim: No, I don't talk about my love life for a very good reason, and that reason is I don't have one. Which is very good news for the ladies- I am still available. I'm a heck of a catch , cos, er, well look at it. I live in Slough, in a lovely house, with my parents. I have my own room, which I've had since, yeap, since I was born. That's seen a lot of action I tell you. Mainly dusting. I went to university for a year as well, before I dropped out, so I'm a quitter. So, er, form an orderly queue ladies.

Water was coming out of my nose by the time he was done. I made the mistake of taking a huge gulp of water. Elegance personified.

It is 8.51 am. This whole waking-early thing is pissing me off. I should just go watch more Gilmore Girls'. Although... I'm starting to hear 'la la las' whereever I am. Be it at work, or sitting at home, or just walking down the street. Possibly a case of Gilmore Girls' overload?

Anyhow, The Office needs to be longer. It's so freaking amusing. In fact, I found the second series more hilarious than the first. Though, it's recommended you watch the first series to understand a lot of the in-side jokes. Just six episodes in one series and Stephen Merchant and Ricky Gervais managed to pull off a story with rich sub-plots involving office romance, office pranks, and lots of general wit. How did they do it?

Right. Review of Kiss Kiss Bang Bang. Robert Downey Jr., when not in court or rehab for drug offences, proves that he is a comic force to reckon with. Spot-on delivery in a film that will probably be 2005's most quotable movie. The writing is almost flawless. The laughs come consistently through out the movie, mostly through lines than gags. Some harder than others. And even in the midst of gasping for breath, you'll be wanting to quiet down to hear the next line. Val Kilmer... I've only seen The Saint to compare (I maintain that I lack the testosterone needed to sit through Top Gun). But overall, Kilmer pulled his role-a gay PI, off convincingly. Yeap, you read right. A gay PI. Pretty impressive stuff too. My only problem was the ending. For a movie that was gold 7/8 out of the 100+ minutes, the ending seemed rushed. Maybe the problem lies in Hollywood's need to wrap things up neatly with a crisp bow.

Tais Toi!, that French flick with the godfather of French movies, Gerard Depardieu, and Jean Reno, which had similar themes, ended on a perfect note because it ended in the middle of a scene. There was no solid conclusion and there's no ultimate rule that states the bad guy ends up in jail. Had Kiss Kiss Bang Bang ended on that note, I probably would have added that movie to my list. Anyhow I'd definitely recommend it to anyone nonetheless. The writing is superb. And you probably won't have a problem with the ending. I'm just being nit-picky.

Veronica Mars in 10 hours. Wheeeeeeeeeeee! Good lord, I better get sleeping now. I'd kick myself if I fall asleep at 6 pm. Like I did yesterday.