I Think He Drives A Porsche

I received an email from a good friend and ex-classmate today. Lets call him C.

We used to have our desks side-by-side at school. C was the class monitor. I remember the time when the both of us were made to do jumping-jacks by our Caucasian Literature teacher because we were caught sleeping during a particularly emotional reading of a passage from Macbeth by the stupid AngMo. Embarassing to say the least since we were both student leaders. But we laugh about it now. And the incident always crops up when we reminisce about the good old days.

Anyway the email was a welcome surprise since we have not spoken to each other for a good 5 years. C's now a high-flying regional director of a big investment bank based in Hong Kong. I suppose he earns a 5-figure salary and zips around town in a Porsche but I didn't dare ask. Because I would probably die from jealously =)) But knowing his current position and his teenage fascination with the German marque, its more than an intelligent guess I reckon =P

But this is not about C and his fast car and the tonnes of chicks he probably attracts like a blardy magnet since he also happens to be quite a cute SNAG. Its about how our lives have turned out so differently. He, the slick and suave corporate banker and me, the lowly civil servant. OK maybe not so lowly but low enough lah when you compare =/

Well C's email got me thinking about how sometimes you can become so comfortable and complacent in your career and in what you do. And maybe that's because we compare ourselves to the mediocre, whether consciously or unconsciously. It makes us look and feel good. But if we occasionally take the time to look beyond our comfort zone, to the people outside our sphere of influence, at the larger scheme of things, the bigger picture, we may find out that we have actually achieved so little. Especially when you realise how far some people have run off in the rat-race although everyone was flagged off from more or less the same start-line.

Its really not about being envious and dis-contented or ungrateful. Its about being aware of where you really stand in the food-chain of life. A sense of reality as it were. It keeps your feet on the ground and your head out of the clouds.

Then the question that begs to be answered is, what are you going to do about it? Rationalise and justify it in denial, accept it with a shrug of the shoulders or be spurred on to do something more with your life?

We have to decide.

Mojo Muo Mows The Motherland

Now that work in the office has tapered off abit and there's a short break in games at the World Cup before the Quarters, I can start on my reading again. Actually I am about a third through my latest tome already. Embarked on it 2 days ago.



After the runaway success of his first novel, Balzac And The Little Chinese Seamstress, Dai Sijie returns with this, Mr Muo's Travelling Couch. An intriguing quest set in modern China where the protagonist Muo, a westernised Freud devotee, returns to the Motherland after spending years in France studying the famed PsychoAnalyst and his works. His mission? To free his childhood sweetheart, who is now a political prisoner, from the sadistic and corrupted clutches of Judge Di, the local magistrate. The price of the Communist bureaucrat's clemency? A virgin maiden.

And so Muo sets off across China, in search of a suitable girl. Along the way, he loses a tooth, his virginity and also his once steadfast belief in psychoanalytical insight. He discovers that perhaps even a chivalrous heart may just have enough room for more than one love. Its a journey that takes him from a lunatic asylum to a rural Panda Habitat to a Chengdu Mortuary.

All in Sijie's inimitable style, a unique narrative with the use of creative literary devices woven into a fine tapestry of delightful prose. A real joy to take it all in, snuggled on the sofa with a hot coffee and a packet of fags. And oh, some smooth BossaNova on the Bose too =)

the perfect shave

men have been trying to find the best way to shave all throughout history...with technology has come weird and wonderful devices (not david beckhams MACH 3 thingy though)...

but when it comes down to it, it's actually quite simple...just a few steps with basic equipment...see below

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

How to get that perfect shave

The perfect shave is what all men strive for every morning when they bring their razor up their chin – an effortless shave that’s baby smooth.

A dull disposable razor dragged across a layer of foam or gel on your cheeks is a step backward from the past, not an improvement. Now that men of all ages are paying more attention to their appearance, it’s no wonder that the hottest trend right now in male grooming is a return to the traditional wet shave – and millions of men have been shocked to discover that the “old fashioned” method of shaving they thought went out with the Hula Hoop is actually the best quality shave you can get.

Q: What is “wetshaving” and how is it different from the way most men – and women – shave today?

A: Wetshaving is just what the term implies – keeping your face (or for women, their legs) wet with plenty of hot water before, and during, the entire shave. In fact, you should always shave after a hot shower, not before (if you need to shave without taking a shower, washing your face with hot water for a few minutes will suffice). With a layer of hot water between your skin and the lather, the blade skims the surface instead of dragging on it, which is the main cause of irritation, redness, and “shave bumps”.

Wetshaving gives you more effective shaves and better looking skin. The hot water opens the pores of your skin and relaxes your facial muscles, and it softens your whiskers for more effective cutting. Believe it or not, but your whiskers are tougher than the edge of a razor blade, and shaving “dry”, or mostly dry as with the vast majority of shaving creams, foams, and gels on the market, means you’re literally tugging on each and every hair on your face instead of neatly slicing it at the skin’s surface and moving on without irritating your skin. The key to proper wetshaving is keeping your face as wet as possible at all times during the shave. Even if you keep your current tools and routine, you’ll marvel at how much closer and more comfortable shaving can be when you keep your face hydrated at all times with lots of hot (not scalding) water.

The perfect shave has three ingredients: a good razor, a good brush, and glycerin-based shaving cream. But the biggest difference between wetshaving and the way most guys shave today is the use of a shaving brush. A good badger-hair shaving brush is the single most important ingredient in getting the perfect shave -- if you change no part of your shaving routine except to add a good shaving brush to the mix, you’ll be astounded at how much better and more enjoyable your shaves become.

Cleanliness Is Next To Godliness

You know since I moved into my new apartment 3 months ago, I've been struggling with the household chores myself.

Well we used to have a part-time housekeeper, a stocky little lady in her fifties, who came to our previous place once a week to do the needful. But since I now live on my own, I figured I would TRY to do the vacuuming, mopping, wiping, laundering, ironing and toilet-cleaning myself.

Who am I kidding? =))

Last week's saucepan is still in the sink, plus a little batallion of wine glasses and cups. There are a couple of dustballs rolling around the living room with the draft from the window. I have run out of T-shirts (and believe you me I have tonnes) because there is a Mt Kilimanjaro of un-ironed clothes piled up in my dressing room. And I won't begin to describe the state of un-loo-lessness my toilets are in =P

This is turning into one heck of a filthy pad.

So last week, I swallowed my pride, picked up that handphone, and dialled the number of my Conjuror of Chores. My Matrony Messiah of The Mess. Auntie G. And she agreed to pluck me out from the depths of dirt and despair.

Salvation starts later today while I am out at work.

Thank God!!! =))

you know wat...

...we've gone past 8000 unique visitors and we didn't even know it

for all you guys out there, thanks for listening to muff, unk and myself talk a whole bunch of rubbish, altho of late, muff seems to be the only one spouting off (can't help it lah, am busy with my own blog and unk is on vacation)...

keep coming back and spread the word too ya? cheers! *pops off a bottle of Krug*

Lord Of The Finks

Tommorrow the blardy school holidays will be over. And I can finally breathe easy. For those who know what I do for a living, you would know what I mean =P

Over the last month or so, there were many times I felt like Theoden cooped up at Helm's Deep, with only 300 Rohirrim by my side. While the enormous horde of Saruman-fashioned Orcs and Uruk-Hai march towards my fortress from Isengard and Mordor =)) For those who know Tolkien, you would know what I mean =P

Oh how I wish I had TreeBeard and his Ents to stomp all over the pesky travellers. While I await the reinforcement of Haldir's Elves and Gandalf with another 1000 Men.

No such luck.

With me are 200 overworked foot-soldiers, a far-from-dwarfish-but-pudgy Gimli, a skinny beardless bean-pole of an Aragorn and a ferocious deputy whose only resemblance to Legolas are her frizzy locks tied up in a ponytail. Becos she's shorter than his bow you see...erm...make that his arrow =))

But we have managed, shall I say, pretty well lah. My motley crew against the armies of evil holiday-makers. Barring a few hiccups here and there =P

So enuff of playing the Lord of the Finks already =)) Back to the grind. Things are looking up =)

Love-On-Demand

Wouldn't it be nice to have a stupid cupid in your pocket?

So the little fella's arrows can be shot on demand, towards the cardiac cavity of anyone your heart so desires. You would have a field day getting him to take aim! =))

Or better still, that Venus, the Goddess of Love really exists to answer our prayers for romantic fulfilment. And then maybe, just maybe, all it takes would be a quick sincere plea for help to the grand ole' Lady of Love and Voila!, the people who hate us or once loved us would suddenly...erm...not hate us and love us once more =P

Heard of the poison called Love Potion number 9? Apparently its made by this gypsy called Madame Rue who has a gold-capped tooth and a pad down at thirty-fourth and vine =)) But if this old '60s song about the strange concoction is anything to go by, the brew is not a reliable option to the Cherub and Goddess =))

So lets get back to reality shall we. There are no Cupids-on-demand, no Venuses for pagan worship and certainly no (last I checked with the USFDA) potions 7, 8 or 9 =))

You want that boyfren or girlfren? You want to mend that broken relationship? You want to find true love for once in your life?

Thick-skin, Honesty, Good Timing and lotsa Luck.

Cest la vie =))

Pendulum

Is it possible to love and hate at the same time?

Do you even know what it is? How such a relationship feels like. Whether you can love someone so much and yet feel so much pain.

Like a ponderous pendulum, you swing between laughter and tears, hope and despair, good memories and really bad ones. Until you find yourself on the edge of this emotional precipice, ready to fall over into the dark and mysterious abyss of Confusion. But an invisible force somehow pulls you to safety. And makes you gaze back upon the green fields and flowery meadows in the sunshine, just beyond the cliff.

But Happiness is fleeting, until Doubt again gnaws its way through the thin fabric of your contentment. And then you start all over.

Always on your side. Perhaps one day, one day, you will realise the silly futility of it all.

Perhaps not.

If Stars are Blind

Then I must be deaf.

Because, well, well, well. Look who has jumped on the MTV bandwagon. None other then the heiress to the Hilton fortune herself, Paaaaa-reeez.

And I quite like it. Yummy :O

Was TV channel surfing in the wee hours yesterday morning and chanced upon this Music Video by the sinewy dumbass bombshell everybody loves to hate. Hate openly but lust for secretly that is =))

Although this dirty little ditty sounds suspiciously like its been ripped off UB40's Kingston Town, I dare say dear Gwen Stefani would pretty much be at home warbling it as well. Sounds like her kinda thang. And c'mon guys admit it, bimbo or not, its a pretty decent effort from the High Priestess of Smut. The girl's got decent vocals lah. And the tune is oh so catchy. Although the video looks like porn. Or an extended GUESS? commercial. Depending on which side of the golden-gilded 'H' fence you stand on =))

But great summer reggae nonetheless. I can just see the guys and girls on the beach, under the hot Californian sun, shaking their bon-bons to this.

Fix You

You know its strange. Funny actually. In a sort of unfathomable, surreal way.

When you're paid to be Mr Fix-It at work, to be that guiding star, a pillar of sound advice, the problem solver. You do all that and more. With cold, clinical precision. Unfeeling, uncaring, unfailing.

And yet when it comes to fixing a few seemingly simple things in a special relationship, you just stand there, transfixed. Perplexed at your own lack of intelligence and ingenuity.

The heart may be the loveliest of organs. But when it lures you into its labyrinth of unsorted feelings and mixed emotions, oh how wretched it can be.

You can't keep wandering this maze of indecision forever. Can't there be a quick fix to all this pain?

I wish I could fix you, really.

StyleFiles@Unkster - Dressed For Success

Is there even such a thing?

Had a casual mention with K today about my dressing. We were taking a 15-min smoke break over coffee and resting our tired limbs after warming up our credit cards. And I asked her if she preferred me in solid colored Polo-Ts, chinos and Birkenstocks, like every decent and mature 30-something. Or always traipsing around town in Quiksilver tops, boardshorts and flip-flops, like some teen Beachbum from Bondi.

Oops did I say 'teen' and 'Bondi'? I flatter myself, ok Sentosa lah =))

I am, afterall, 32. And I don't wan't to be labelled a childish unker in denial. K assures me that I am not. Just kiddish =/ I hope she is kidding =))

But I think hor, its not about dressing your age. Its about dressing for the occasion. Its about making sure your wardrobe has the 'arsenal' of requisite outfits to tog yourself in for that cocktail party, that trip to the Mall, that beach vacation, that Chinese wedding dinner, that important office meeting or even, erm, that funeral. And 'requisite' does not mean 'expensive'.

The thing about S'poreans, if I may humbly add, is that they tend to take the term 'Smart Casual' a little too casually. And end up looking sloppy. Its not the deliberate grungy-chic look I am talking about, but the obiang 'heck-care-just-grab-anything-from-cupboard' fashion sense. There is also this 'one size fits all' mentality. So sometimes you meet someone at a dinner party and he's decked out like he's all ready to begin a day at work in the office. Over-dressed or Under-dressed, sometimes its a fine line. And in this respect, I think we have lots to learn from the HongKongers and the Japanese.

I reckon its in the genes. Because money cannot buy style and good taste =)) It can buy you half the achingly hip Comme des Garcons guerilla store but whether the stuff will look good on you is another story =p

Ok enough of my rambling. Want to share with you guys my totally 'want-not-a-need' purchases from the Great Singapore Sale today =)) Which by the way, ain't that great really. K and me think the retailers purposely keep all their good stuff away and only offer last season's rejects >(

K wanted a pair of white ones for wake-boarding. She ended up with a blue pair and guess who got the Crispy White Metal yummies from Adidas? =P


This T-shirt is from British designers SuperDry. Don't ask me what's up with the name but apparently they are very very hot at the moment. I didn't know that Beckham was actually spotted in a blue Osaka 6 sometime ago or I wouldn't have bought it! Not in red though, I got mine in white with green Camou prints.


My last 'Captain America' pair got stolen from right outside my apartment 3 days ago. I loved them =( And since this is an old model, Puma doesn't make it anymore. So dear old me had to scour high and low for this Replicat which I finally found when I had all but given up hope. It was a display piece and was one size too small. But what the heck =))


So can I be dressed for success or not? =P

Mad About Macs

Shall I, shall I, shall I? Blow my mid-year bonus on this Intel Core Duo baby? My iBOOK G4 is 2 years old and getting passe =)) This fella is 5 times faster, and waaaaaaay cooler.

Tempted. Seriously =P

What a Jem, The Return Of Women in White Coats

Sometime ago, when K told me she was hooked on Grey's Anatomy, I was skeptical.

Aiyoh not another hospital drama! I hate hospitals (in real life) and cannot understand why angmos are so obsessed with shows involving a medical facility. I mean just count the number - ER, Chicago Hope, Scrubs, St Elsewhere, Gideon's Crossing, Casualty et cetera. Not sure whether the last few ever aired their sterile heads here but the first three certainly did. And I'm sure there are more out there in the big US of A that I have missed.



But back to GA.

I know every Drama-mama has long been raving about the sexy sirens of Seattle Grace and that I am pretty much freakin' slow. But happy to report that yes, I'm finally a new convert, to Dr Meredith Grey (Ellen Pompeo) and Dr Isobel Stevens (Katherine Hiegl) that is. Ooolala =))

OK I'm really not that shallow. Because as one review aptly puts it, in the age of Desperate Housewives and The OC, it is refreshing to see a television show whose heroines aspire to do meaningful work as well as meaningless sex =)) Agree! Why, why, did I not study harder for the A's and become a doctor?

Anyway I suspect that for most of us, it is not so much the Scapels and Surgical Gowns that gets the Adrenaline pumping (although I think for some sickos it is :/). But the disproportionate amount of time the drama devotes to the love-lives of its young intern protagonists that does the trick. We are, after all, hopeless romantics, closet or otherwise. And its so intoxicating watching beautiful people falling in and out of love in a beautiful hospital. The Hippocratic Oath is for Hippo-critical-oafs =))

Notice also how the 3 Supervising Surgeons are all Black Afro-Americans? So subtly politically-correct lah this show!

And the excellent sountrack. Stumbled upon a webby that lists all the songs played in every episode from Season 1 and 2. You know how important the music is in setting the mood and tone for a scene and I think the producers of GA have done well. They seem to like Welsh babe Jem though. Her name pops up at least 4 times.

So pity I didn't start on this earlier. Wish I did =))

No One Is to Blame

Driving home awhile ago when this song came on the radio. Love it but I don't really know why.

A few minutes earlier, I had walked right smack into a glass door on my way out of a cafe-bar. And there I was, trying my darnest to steer properly while nursing a partially swollen forehead and a bloody 1cm gash above my left eye. A little groggy to say the least. Such an Idiot!

So as I sit here now with an ice-pack in my left hand and trying to type with my right, can someone please tell me what the words really mean? I fear I have been knocked stupid.

You really want each other but fate and circumstance keep you apart? Is that it? Impossible Love?

Beautiful metaphors aplenty though...

You can look at the menu but you just can't eat
You can feel the cushions but you can't have a seat
You can dip your foot in the pool but you can't have a swim
You can feel the punishment but you can't commit the sin
And you want her and she wants you
We want everyone
And you want her and she wants you
No one, no one, no one ever is to blame

You can build a mansion but you just can't live in it
You're the fastest runner but you're not allowed to win
Some break the rules
And live to count the cost
The insecurity is the thing that won't get lost
And you want her and she wants you
We want everyone
And you want her and she wants you
No one, no one, no one ever is to blame

You can see the summit but you can't reach it
Its the last piece of the puzzle but you just can't make it fit
Doctor says you're cured but you still feel the pain
Aspirations in the clouds but your hopes go down the drain
And you want her and she wants you
We want everyone
And you want her and she wants you
No one, no one, no one ever is to blame

No one ever is to blame
No one ever is to blame

Unkers & Vino - Brown Brothers Lexia Spatlese 2005

A good glass of wine need not be some rare expensive vintage from the verdant terriors of Bordeaux. But really, the best vino is the one you enjoy the most, whatever the cost.

Realised, perhaps, that I've been sticking with the Usual Suspects. I need to be a little more adventurous. So will share some of my new 'discoveries' in here, as they come in. Curly and Kona can help of course.

I was looking for Brown Brothers' Orange Muskat and Flora today at Bottles & Bottles but stumbled on this lovely Lexia instead. By the way I'm a huge fan of Brown Brothers. I think their vineyard in Milawa, Victoria produces some of the best, really affordable wines on the market today.



The Lexia grape is a variety of the Muskat family and yes, the first thing you notice about it is that its musky. This 'Brownie' is a great example of a late harvested wine displaying the ripe fruit flavours the style is renowned for. Labelled "Spatlese" (don't ask me why since this is an Aussie vino), German for Late Harvest, the reviews say this wine makes a great partner to a spicy Chicken Vindaloo. But I think it is better suited to something like creme brulee or perhaps a kick-ass Apple Crumble (the one from Corduroy & Finch comes to mind!).

K and me found it a trifle too sweet. Especially when the both of us, 'Sweet White Aficionados', were having it with tenderloins we bought from Espirito Santo, a great gourmet butchery we also stumbled upon that even marinates your meats on the spot FOC. Perhaps we should have got the Crouchen Riesling instead for its little extra dryness and acidity.

A nice wine nonetheless, if you have a sweet tooth. But better left to the after-dinner chatter over dessert. Trust me on this one.

Achtung! Baby

As I write this, its Germany 3, Costa Rica 2. The world's greatest fussball circus has begun. And which team am I supporting? Hmmm. Let's see...

I've always enjoyed a tall cold pint of this in a chilled glass, goes damn well wif bratwurst and sauerkraut...


When I win the lottery, I'll go get myself one of these, decked out in Hamann of course...


I've got a little fetish for Special Forces and I think these guys are super kewl, although Grenzschutzgruppe 9 is a blardy frickin' mouthful...


Teutonic precision with Italian passion, my favorite F1 driver from Kerpen...


And who can forget this 'Golden Bomber' who is now The Boss...


Plus, I like this Kapitan, although of all the teams in the EPL, he had to sign for the sickening Suckers of Stamford Bridge...


Its Deutschland of course! =P And to Brazil I say, Achtung! Baby =))

Superman

Sometimes I feel like one.



Although if I looked 0.005% like Brandon Routh and had my own Kate 'Lois Lane' Bosworth by my side, I wouldn't mind it one bit.

But like Superman Returns, lets return to reality shall we. I am no hunk in red undies with that sexy bulge upfront. Which, by the way, had the Hollywood bigwigs saying it was too, erm, bulgy. And distracting. So director Bryan Singer and his producers had to work the magic of digital downsizing. How else would you keep the girls in the audience from slobbering into their pop-corn while playing with a stick of kryptonite =)) Poor Brandon, its not his fault he is so well-endowed.

OK before this turns into bulge talk... :P

I just wanna bitch about how sometimes, the boss expects you to run faster than a speeding bullet, be stronger than a locomotive and leap tall buildings with a single bound. When actually the real, less glamorous demands are that you complete that damn lengthy report in triple quick time, you don't get split clean down the middle executing the stretch-goals of management while appeasing your own officers and that you traipse over every operational problem, big or small, with the easy finesse of a nonchalant African gazelle.

So does the boss-man give you a nice, swanky swath of a red cape for all that? Hell no! He stands at the sidelines and mocks you like Lex Luther, who incidentally is played by Kevin Spacey this time. What a Dead-Ringer for the original smarmy bald one Gene Hackman.

Its a Bird! Its a Plane! No Stupid, its just me.

And I can only do so much.

I'm only a man in a silly red sheet
Digging for kryptonite on this one way street
Only a man in a funny red sheet
Looking for special things inside of me
Inside of me
Inside me
Yeah, inside me
Inside of me

High

Your head is on my lap, as the TV flickers softly in the distance. With my fingers in your hair, I feel the long tresses move to the gentle rhythm of my breathing. Your eyes are closed, I know you are content.

I dare not move, lest your cheeks leave the warmth of my pelvis. And you awake. Slowly, I too, am lulled into slumber. The soft voice in the background, a muffled lullaby of words.

It has been a while since we were ever like this.

Eventually I stir and you open your eyes. Raising your head, you kiss me. And for a fleeting moment, it feels like we were never apart.

But we both don't know.

So just a kiss and a quick embrace, for now.

Because the highs are transient, when you are learning to love all over again.

Carpe Diem

Along the corridor, the lonely wheelchair looked forlorn. As if the old geezer was still sitting there, gazing over the concrete precipice. But there was no one. He was gone.

Along the corridor, the anguished Mother looked bereft of emotion. Save for a tiny tear that trickled down her by now pallid cheeks. She had one hand on a spanking new stroller. But the little occupant was gone.

An old man of 86 years. A new-born of 8 days.

When the Grim Reaper swings his rusty Scythe, he hardly ever misses. Young or Old, Rich or Poor, Ready or Not.

When I left both homes yesterday, offering little, apart from my meagre condolences, the words Carpe Diem rang true, again...

Still Loving You

heard a timeless classic the other day. muffy, if you can find the music, please stream!


Still Loving You - The Scorpions


Time, it needs time
To win back your love again
I will be there, I will be there
Love, only love
Can bring back your love someday
I will be there, I will be there

Ill fight, babe, Ill fight
To win back your love again
I will be there, I will be there
Love, only love
Can break down the wall someday
I will be there, I will be there

If wed go again
All the way from the start
I would try to change
The things that killed our love
Your pride has built a wall, so strong
That I cant get through
Is there really no chance
To start once again
Im loving you

Try, baby try
To trust in my love again
I will be there, I will be there
Love, our love
Just shouldnt be thrown away
I will be there, I will be there

If wed go again
All the way from the start
I would try to change
The things that killed our love
Your pride has built a wall, so strong
That I cant get through
Is there really no chance
To start once again

If wed go again
All the way from the start
I would try to change
The things that killed our love
Yes, Ive hurt your pride, and I know
What youve been through
You should give me a chance
This cant be the end
Im still loving you
Im still loving you, I need your love
Im still loving you

Sayuri's Sukiyaki

Enchanting, ethereal, intoxicating.

That about sums up Rob Marshall's Memoirs of a Geisha which K and me just caught on DVD. Yes I know, old news this show. But we are busy people =P

Memoirs brought back memories of Japan, a place we had the pleasure, or should I say K's 'displeasure', of visiting last year. Well I did drag her on a roller-coaster Shinkansen ride through 11 cities in 14-days from Nikko to Miyajima Island off Hiroshima with our backpacks =)) Phew! We needed another holiday to recover from that one.

But for a movie bursting at the seams with beautiful people (read Zhang Ziyi, Gong Li, Michelle Yeoh and Ken Watanabe), we were enchanted with one little girl in particular, little Chiyo (the young Sayuri), played by 12-year old Japanese child-actress Suzuka Ohgo. Blardy good genes this little girl has I tell you. Those eyes.

Anyway, kudos to Ms Zhang for another fine performance in spite of all the flak she got for having the audacity to play the part of the Japanese 'whore' Sayuri. BUT, she still has lots to learn from the person she has long been compared to since the beginning, Gong Li. The latter's spiteful Hatsumomo in Memoirs clearly shows why she was Zhang Yimou's first paramour way before the young 'ingenue' Ziyi came along and made it a troublesome threesome.

Anyway for those who watched the show, I leave you with this endearing scene, where Chiyo meets the Chairman (Watanabe) on a bridge near the Hanamachi. And falls in love for the first time...



Chairman: It is too pretty a day to be so unhappy. Did you fall down? Why so shy? Nothing to be ashamed of, we all stumble from time to time. Do you see that enchanting lady in green? Once when she was just a myiko, she fell clean off her wooden shoes.
Geisha in Green: [laughs] It's true I did.
Chairman: And now look at her, so elegant...
Geisha in Green: Mr. Chairman, shouldn't we hurry? We will miss the beginning.
Chairman: We see the spring dances every year, we can spare a moment. What's your name? Don't be afraid to look at me. Do you like sweet plum or cherry?
Chiyo: You mean... to eat?
Chairman: I like sweet plum myself. Come. None of us find as much kindness in this life, as we should. My children wait for these every spring. [hands her the ice and spoon]
Chiyo: [looks at geisha by the tree, smears some of the cherry ice on her lips] Now I'm a geisha too.
Chairman: [laughs] And so you are. How did you come by such surprising eyes?
Chiyo: My mother gave them to me.
Chairman: Generous of her, wasn't it?
Chiyo: As you have been to me.
Chairman: Smile for me, won't you? [Chiyo smiles for him]
Chairman: There now, that is your gift to me. [hands Chiyo his handkerchief with the change inside]
Chairman: This will buy your supper. Now promise me one thing, next time you take a tumble... no frowns.[Chiyo nods]

Sometimes

Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose
No use blowing that old fuse
In life its often hard to deduce
Why, why can't we even deuce

Sometimes you love, sometimes you hate
It would be nice if we could all just date
Or would you rather that we mate?
And perhaps leave it up to fate

Sometimes you laugh, sometimes you cry
The Strong Ones always get on by
A few are convinced that the end is nigh
Others prod on with barely a sigh

Sometimes you'll stand, sometimes you'll fall
When in front of you, there's this insurmontable wall
Its a test, to see, if you'll be tall
Don't falter, no, not before this knoll

- muffy

Change

A brick wall.

That's what K has been calling me for years. Someone so stubborn that once I've made up my mind, you'll need a Russian Tank to blow a hole through me to get past that thick skull.

Today, my boss sat me down, bought me a cup of coffee, and had this conspiratorial grin on his face that said 'I've got something to get off my not-so-hairy chest'. Not a good sign. Although I really should not be reading too much into that stupid smirk because I think its a hereditary facial feature of that mangy mien of his.

But I digress.

Well he basically said the same thing. Along the lines of the brick wall that is. Not that I didn't see this coming. He hates my guts. Just 2 weeks ago he threw a fit when he discovered that someone he had tasked to do something actually consulted me before proceeding.

"Why da hell did you have to ask him for?" I was told he said, "He's sure to say no, no, no, cannot, cannot, cannot".

You see boss-man here wants to be that Russian Tank.

But I am grateful the 'tank' decided to go with the soft approach today, with the coffee, smirk and everything. And so he tells me that I really shouldn't be so resistant to change. That he expects me, at my level, to be the one that decides on and makes the changes, not merely executing them.

I was beginning to feel touched and convinced until he launched into a 10-minute soliloquy on Moral Courage. And how he had lots and I had but tiny-tots. You could just hear his ego inflating the way u do the bald tyres on your dirty bicycle with that old creaky step-on pump.

A part of me felt sick. Another part of me walked out of the room thinking, hey, am I really that donkey-ish?

Silence

Only the piano has been talking to me the whole day
The sleeping cello, silent and old

I think you've made it clear
I understand and I know it too
There is no longing.

I don't believe that you are sad.
Holding your hand. You being with me. Its all in the past now.
I really hope he loves you more than I do.
Then I'll force myself to leave you.

What do you really want me to say?
I really don't wish to break up with you.
Why do you want me to smile and pretend nothing has happened?
I don't have this gift to embrace you and him.
Please don't worry too much, I'll continue to live life.

You are so far away from me. I will slowly walk away too.
Why do I let you choose how and when we break up?
I really have no such gift. I can't be this quickly silenced.
I'll learn to give you up.
Because I love you too much.

- Silence, Jay Chou

If you really love someone, set him or her free
And if its really meant to be
It will...

Cliched but easier said than done. As usual.