Dancing in the moonlight aka Birthday Post II

It was the perfect ending to a beautiful day. I couldn't have asked for better. A picked me up at 7.30 from Far East Plaza, where I had hurriedly changed out of my birthday clothes (as opposed to a birthday suit) and into comfortable jeans and T shirt.

A. was slightly tardy, but it was fun people watching at Far East. It's like entering a different paradigm, where everyone has an extra W chromosome.

Anyway, she drove us to East Coast Park, near the old Big Splash (what is that place called now anyway?)There, as the gentle breeze blew through my carefully brushed hair, creating what looked like an Amy Winehouse bird's nest, I saw M, R and J in the distance, engaged in what looked like successful "chope-ing" of a stone table.

At A's insistance, we spread some mats on the sand and sat down. The guys tried their darnest to light candles and finally managed to light one. Which is a good thing, because it was kinda dark.

G joined us just as we opened the food - talk about good timing. We laughed and talked more than we ate, but that's good.

There was a stange little outdoor pub nearby that had a guitar and singer duo who started off well, but got progressively worse at the night wore on. But they added so much fun to the night, as we sang along, almost as badly as they did.

My chocolate fudge cake was perfect, especially with the one candle that the boys managed to light, and hold lit by cupping 4 pairs of hands around it, so that I had the fun of blowing out. I have the best friends. Have I mentioned that already?

Here are ten things that I find out I mean to my dearest and nearest. Thank you A, for making them do the "Nalinee Appreciation" speeches.
1) Witty
2) Intelligent
3) Funny
4) Aggressive
5) Task Oriented
6) Purveyor of useless facts and info
7) Drama Mama
8) Dependable
9) Trustworthy
10) Loved

With that much affirmation, how can anyone ask for a better birthday eh?

18 million

That's how many minutes I have already been blessed to receive so far and I hope there will be another 18 million to look forward to. At least.

It a very good thing, a birthday. It makes you take stock of things in a different light. And people are nice to you. Very nice.

I started mine with breakfast with T. It was her wedding anniversary (26 years!!!) and her husband is away, so we decided to celebrate both occasions with a decadent breakfast at Delifrance. Yum yum. Never underestimate the happiness butter and croissants can brng you.

Then I got on a slow boat to Little India to meet my dad for lunch. It is the first time in a long while that I saw my dad on my birthday, but it felt right. He is one of my biggest cheerleaders and a huge celebrant of my life, so it was fitting that he was there.

We shared a plate of "kothu parata", which I didn't really like, and regaled me with tales of his work and life, which I loved. The thing about my dad is, he can take the most mundane, boring, everyday event, and dramatise it to the point where you are on the edge of your seat and biting your fingernails frantically, waiting to see how it all ends. I wish I had that gift.

After dad went back to work, I wended my way to Shaw Centre (House? I can never remember), hoping to see a movie I missed. Turns out both Prince Caspian and Sex and the City were showing. I finally decided on Prince Caspian, because I was in a deep, reflective kinda mood as opposed to frivolity. (don't get me wrong, I love frivolity in the right mood.)

Prince Caspian was a good movie in many ways, but maybe i am dumbing down or something, but I didn't really get all that theology that some people I know were raving about. It was a good story about a king taking his rightful place with a little help from his friends. Hmm, I wonder which other epic fantasy story adapted into a screenplay had this storyline.

But the cream and chocolate shavings topping on the perfect day was yet to come.......

American Gangster - Movie Review

My colleague bought me a DVD of "American Gangster" for my birthday, which makes me really quite delighted. I guess with all the moaning I did about missing it when it was in the cinemas, he got the hint.

Anyway, I made good use of my evening yesterday and watched it. And it was worth all 175 minutes (this was the uncut edition and well deserving of its M18 rating).

Denzel is the comsummate gangster, with his look of barely controlled rage and "I am so pissed off you are even alive" look. Of course that man is so yummy, I could just eat him with a spoon, but he is also an amazing actor. I studied it carefully and I realised what it is - it's the way he walks. Denzel's walk, part swagger, part strut and all testosterone, is what makes him so perfect for this role. It is confidence, laced with gangsta. How to lose?

Ok, before this turns into a Denzel droolfest, let's get into the movie, shall we?
American gangster is a true story about Frank Lucas, the first black man to monopolise and dominate the drug scene in America. On his trail is Richie Roberts (Russell Crowe, a reluctant loser cop whose unpopularity to the rest of the NJPD has him heading a narcotics task force which operates outside the system to get all the baddies.

Ok, sypnopsis aside, this movie has many other themes which you will remember from other gangster movies - family, loyalty, love and of course chicks and cold blooded killings.

But what really got me about this movie was the motivation behind Lucas' actions.
Having come from a violent childhood, the oldest of 6 children, being poor, being a urban refugee, he embodies the American Dream. Finding capitalism a better option to patriotism, he milks the system, collects on his favours and doesn't take crap.

In any other industry, he would be the Times Man of the Year.

But crime doesn't pay, kiddos, and this point is stressed even though only 2 people in the movie actually beleive this. And that includes all the boys in blue who serve and protect.

If gangster movies are not your thing, give this one a wide berth. But if you can handle a little blood, violence and crime, and think Denzel is da bomb, then you have to see this.

I saw Indiana Jones 4 twice

Yes. It is true. It was every bit as disappointing as everyone made it out to be, but I spent hard earned money and saw it twice.

Why? Because I forgot I promised my mum I would take her to it. And if I told her I already saw it, I would never hear the end of it.

So I lied, and pretended I didn't see it yet, and oohed and aahed and ewwed in all the right places.

Don't ever tell me I am not a consumate actress.

Ok, IJ4 wasn't that bad. It's just that if you were a fan of the series, then it was a bit disappointing. I was trying to put my finger on it, until I read this review by my favourite writer and then I realised he was absolutely right. What made Indy cool in 1 and 3 were the realistic, based-on-fact storylines. Which is also what made Temple of Doom so sucky.

IJ4's ending was more ridiculous than Temple of Doom, which at least had the saving grace of that cute little kid whose name escapes me at the moment. Till the last 15 minutes, it was a very good action-adventure flick, but then it was like they just couldn't decide whether to make it metaphysical or science fiction, and went hey, let's do both!! Geez Louise, pick a plot already.

However, how about that Shia LeBeouf eh? I thought he was quite brilliant in this movie, not quite stealing Harrison Ford's thunder, but coming pretty darn close sometimes. I think they probably wrote his part down a bit, so he wouldn't overshadow the big man himself. But I am gonna watch this kid, I think he will go far.

IJ4 is not a bad movie the way Aeonflux was bad, but it's not what one would expect from the Spielberg-Lucas powerhouse. This one won't be winning any awards, boys. Unless there is a category for "Cheesiest Ending with cliched punchline"

Waiting for Lontong

Everyday, the place I work has a designated menu for staff lunch, which comprises 2 usually rather delicious dishes, which are available to staff for just over $3. The offering are usually quite respectable, comprising mainly of local dishes like fish curry, fried HK noodles and the odd continental dish like fish and chips.

Today's menu was pineapple fried rice or chicken lontong. I decided on the chicken lontong, because of my problem with pineapple (gives me ulcers)

I placed my order at 12.20pm. And waited. My tardy colleagues from marcom arrived 10 minutes later.

And waited. My tardy colleagues received their food. (pineapple rice was probably pre-made, I tell myself)

And waited. Tardy colleagues finished lunch and were talking about dessert and coffee (maybe they ran out of lontong and were making fresh ones, I reasoned).

And waited. Tardy colleagues finish coffee and head back to work, leaving me to the company of coleagues who came after me. And who were happily eating their pineapple rice.

And waited. I am reminded that my lunch hour is not in fact an hour, but 45 minutes. Something to do with working 44 hours and still getting alternate Saturdays off. Anyway...

Finally a platter containing what does NOT look like pineapple rice arrives and is placed in front of me. Time check: 1.15pm.

Just for the record, I am not a patient person. On the contrary, I hate waiting and have a 10 minute waiting threshold for appointments and meetings.

So why did I do all that waiting? I think I just wanted to see how far they would go. And now I know. one near bloody hour. And did anyone apologise or explain the situation? No.

I wonder if it has anything to do with the fact that we pay a subsidised price. However, as my friend Chin would say, "But still!!"

Weddings and such

This has been a very wedding-y season. In the last 2 months, I have attended 3 weddings, with one more in two weeks. It has been a tremendous strain on the emotions, not to mention the pocket.

Yesterday's wedding was another Indian extravaganza where 4 million people are crammed into a hall meant for 1000 at most, waiting for the pivotal moment where the groom ties the nuptial string around the bride's neck with 3 reef knots (as opposed to a noose knot), and everyone breathes a sigh of relief that the buffet is now open.

Ok, I admit that was a bit cynical, but honestly, you should have seen the mass exodus into the dining area the minute that ceremony was over. It was like noone was actually there for the bride and groom.

Then there is the whole "line up to present gifts" thing. Of course in Singapore, where cash is king, noone gives presents anymore. Show me the money, baby!

I noticed only one very "foreign talent" looking couple grasping their gift wrapped in purple paper (no less), looking slightly worried that their present may be flung back on their faces and hard cash demanded.

But as all weddings, baby blessings and funerals are, this was a good chance to catch up with old friends who you thought fell off the face of the earth. Upon talking for a while you realise YOU are the one that fell off.

This wedding was a Ngee Ann ICS circa 1995 gathering, which was strange to say the least. I had to crack my brain to remember who was talking to who, who stole whose girfriend, and which of the stately (and portly) men who are now husbands and fathers were the biggest skirt chasers back then. Back then...(cue wavy lines)

Ah, nostalgia.

Anyway, after the wedding, I was sufficiently depressed to seek some liquid solace. So upon calling a few friends, I decided to join a bunch on my first sojourn to St James Power Station. After blathering around for a bit, we finally decided on the Latin music place called Movido's (Movida's - Thanks, Ah-neh). It has a good band from Paraguay, with the DJ spinning World music in between for a bit of a kick.

But oh my, the crowd. It was so packed, that there wasn't even space to flatulate. Dancing comprised of shuffling your feet and moving your shoulders. Everything else had to be on the inside. However the band impressed enough for me to want to go back and check them out on a quieter night. Anyone wanna go with me?

Ok, I have digressed enough. Back to weddings.
Here is what I wrote on the card/ moneyholder yesterday.

They say a man who finds a wife, finds for himself a precious thing.
To be protected under his arm, held close to his heart and cherished with his words and deeds.
You have found such a woman; exalt her and let her embrace you with the fragrance of her femininity.

Commitment

I made a commitment this weekend.

People who know me know what a big deal this is. I am not the kind of person who likes to commit to something for long, preferring the excitment of change and variety to the steadfastness (steadfastity?) of a long term relationship.

But this was different.

For one thing, it did not require me to give up anything that I love already anyway.
If anything, based on what was presented on saturday, it will enhance my experience in this respect.

So, upon signing on the dotted line, I just I am now a figurative card-carrying member.

Based on past expeience, I haven't done this well. I hope I don't screw this one up too.