Like they do in the movies...

I'm talking to you Humphrey, I'm thinking of you Ingrid,
I've always wanted to eat Chinese from a white box,
I've dreamt of using a hairclip to pick locks.
I know for a fact: Germans are known as Hans and Siegfried.

Could life be like the movies?
Where we fly to New York at 3 o clock.
That we could pull of a red sock
With blue shoes and pink hair
That we could be pretty and fair.

Can we meet on the top of the empire state building,
Where we'll meet just in time and have that happy ending.
Life could be fun definitely.
And we could live decently.
Well more than decently.
More like, fantastically!

Can we live like they do in the movies,
Where our speech is rehearsed and we move on cues.
Where we live in dreams and never get hurt.
Where we are never rude, evil or curt.
Where every disease had cures.
Not just one but two,three and four.
Where love was a never ending galore.

Aliens and Shakespeare don't gel as well as you'd think...

Hey there Mulder,
How're you doing Scully,
I guess you should've told'er,
That questions are my folly.
Have you got each other on speed dial?
Would you both go the extra mile?
Have you got me on a file?
Do you think Trish thinks me mad,
That I've got the shipper bug this bad?
Stay cool and always have fun,
Even if you're only on reruns.

Peace out, agents.

Read Sontag but Listen to the Mikado

Yes that is my deifinition of a day in paradise. Ms Sontag has opened my horizons to new, albeit at times disturbing, thoughts. A wonderful writer - don't know when we'll see the likes of her again. But perhaps we won't and she'll remain the unique Sontag. As I think she should be kept in our literary hearts. I admire her bravery, her mind and her beauty. Soldier on, Sontag. Bet you're still writing somewhere out there.

Last night, Mum and I did the naturally art-farty thing and went to the opera. We dressed up, you'd better believe it. And when the music began, I knew I was going through the seven levels of Heaven. The stage was amazing and the performance simply stunning. I rested my chin on my hand and just oohed and ahhed. I gnashed my teeth and drew a sigh as it were. I grew up with the Mikado, you must understand. To see it live, was really something. I'm still in the audience, my eyes filled with such sights. Such sights indeed!

Taking on the challenge of London

Sontag-tolerant and best friend, Trish came down to London last week. Besides receiving excellent hosting skills by me, I can safely say we had a grand old time. I shall tell the story with pictures and my undoubtedly talented writing skeels. skills. yes.

We watched and it was an excellent, thoughtful film. Although Trish lamented the premature death of the crab thing at the end. Alas food that could have filled our tummies!

We took a turn around and saw the lovely shops still closed. But we had a mission that day! I brought Trish to SOAS where she all but worshipped the law section, full of legal stuff. Beats me but she enjoyed it and that was fine by me! Onward to the British museum where we took in the knowledge and the taste of history at its purest:

We took a train to Covent Garden where we had a delightful picnic lunch, despite the blistering cold. Then on to the National Gallery (where we said hello to my man Vincent) and to the National Portrait Gallery (Vanity Fair, bring it on!). We then walked by Pall Mall (and it was a lovely cold Summer-like day) but took a cab home. No evening in London was complete without a night to the theatre. And indeed that was what we did! The 39 steps, no less.

Without a doubt, a great day in London. Come down more often, Trish. Bob, D, Jufi and I will show you a good time. As always.

Razak Baginda, in the mire and tired of it.

I have been silent long enough and been good but allow me this moment of standing up verbally. I think we Malaysians are selective on who is innocent. Have you heard of Razak Baginda? He is my father. He has faced a trial. Correction, he is facing a trial. People call it a farce. Then I put it to you that his year in prison is also a farce. This counts for nothing apparently. No one realises this, we conveniently ignore this fact. I mean, who thinks prison is glamarous anyway? Me talking to my father through a glass is not so glamarous either. I am personally disappointed, not to mention angry at this selectiveness. I think we should be honest with ourselves. An innocent man can come in many forms. Be surprised that Razak Baginda is innocent.

Because he is.

Wake up.

Heath Ledger, ladies and gents

You can imagine my dismay at the news today. I did not expect this one at all. Poor guy.

A real lost to the fim industry. Not only a respectable and talented actor, but a brave one too. I'm going to miss seeing him on the silver screen, although I don't think his films will be as mortal. He's the new James Dean, the forever young soul. The senstive, quiet but extremely gifted actor. (Hey he made me cry during that last scene of Brokeback Mountain). I was really quite shocked and I hope that his family are allowed, to mourn what must be a devastating loss, in peace. Reach for the stars, Heath.

Bearers of the cross & the crescent: Travels to the Levant

Just taking a break from essays to write a little about how I feel about the Crusades. You know that whole Kingdom of Heaven thing. I've been submerged in it for the last week and I get how this can get so addictive! I just want to go to the Levant (Palestine & Syria) in my shorts, boots, linen short and climb rocks. And imagine what it was like to be a knight on his steed or a soldier of the crescent at his watchtower.

History heaven.

Say Milk, Not Cheese.

Leibovitz inspires me. The world will keep turning as long as there's art.

She is touching and her pictures are moving. I guess art goes beyond paint and canvas and photographs speak to us in a familiar language. We're all fluent in it. Her pictures are warm and for a moment, I feel as if I'm living in those moments. Like an archaeologist and a historian. I think her new book's wonderful too (thanks, Mum&Father!). I like getting lost in the frames.

To as long as she keeps taking pictures! I think it'd be lovely to be as fresh as a Leibovitz.

Bienvenue, 2008.

Today, it dawns with a new beginning, a not-so-false sense of hope and renewal. Besides my sorethroat, which has resulted in a very sexy voice (dare I say, sexier than before?). Needless to say, I shall be making more phonecalls and will be unnecessarily talking too much.

I'm not going to review 2007 - it would take several blogs and far too much typing. Just to get from January to June. After all, another year gone is nothing new. So instead (and because I don't really do New Year Resolutions, but it's perfectly alright if you do) I'm going to wish everyone around the world a very happy new year (2008) and may it be special for everyone, in every possible way. I think we all deserve it. Bless. Happy New Year? Let's make it so.

Oh and to Family and Trish, thanks for welcoming 2008 with me (even if we may have been a few minutes off - bad Josephine clock - although one never is quite off...).