GRRRRR. Arrrgh. And sometimes a travel log.
Because you already shelled out the big money on the COE for a big car, you can pretty much park anywhere you want.
Because milk is sometimes better than beer.
(Circled portion says "Japan.") Because Hiromi is such a good, strong, old-fashioned Czech name.
Because sometimes, I still have the stomach(s) of a cow.
Yeah, well, I wasn't supposed to announce it until after the night is through (see previous post), but, well, it was so gosh darned excitin'!
Becoming Royston got nominated in three categories in the Festival of First Asian Films: Best Actor (Male), Best Cinematography and Best Screenplay. Everything happened at the Q Bar tonight (where none of the nominees had our names on the guest list, but we got in anyway).
Kinda cool. Of the 350 movies entered in this year's competition, only 22 nominations were announced out of 11 films (I could be wrong - after a while, I lost track of the number of different movies in the running), and we got into 3 categories. But there's also some stress because our movie didn't have explosions, gunfights or anything exciting like that in it.
Still, all cool because I got interviewed (no choice - only other representative other than Best Actor) by ST Life - that might appear tomorrow... or not. Not that I like being interviewed in the first place (which is kinda why I haven't appeared in all of the articles about the film so far).
Plus, I got to shake Fann Wong's hand. But I'm still gonna wash my hands the next time I go to the toilet. Would've loved to have spoken to Mira Nair (she of the Salaam Bombay! fame), but she'd left by the time I got round to more schmoozing...
After that, I managed to get into the Power Jam finals at Zouk. And no, my favouritestest band didn't win in the end.
But bonus!
I got two tickets to Tenacious D and a free condom (no images - hands too shaky from drinking to hold camera phone steady).
Bonus!
Updated 27 October, 1221 hours:
Today's report in the ST.
But tempting.
Been a bit busy lately - hence the lack of entries. Not shooting, but attending to the other part of what I've been doing since I quit teaching.
My first two reviews are up on the sinema.SG website already, with another due tomorrow (sometimes it sucks to be married to the editor-in-chief - she knows when I'm lying about being busy).
Also, have stopped smoking, which means I'll be damned cranky for the next two months. At least. And gaining weight because I'll be drowning my nicotine urges in alcohol.
Tonight (and a very last minute thing it was too - otherwise, I'd have been at Zouk for the Finals), I'll be at some bar near Boat Quay getting nominated for Best Screenplay. I guess some good came out of this.
You've seen them around, stickers on cars with the names of the most likely occupants and their respective blood types.
How dumb is this idea?
1. There's no guarantee that the window where they're placed wouldn't be the first part of the vehicle to be smashed to bits in an accident that actually requires someone else to give you a blood transfusion.
2. If you did get into an accident, who the hell in the paramedic team knows you personally? They're pretty much gonna be digging through your wallets for your IC or driver's license anyway.
3. If you're freakin' bleeding already, how long is it really gonna take the paramedics to get a sample of your blood and then do the typing on the spot? Not that they'd be carrying vials of blood of different types in the ambulance - would just make more sense to just have many bags of O+.
4. And c'mon, do you really want people on the road to know who the occupants of your car are?
And then, there are those who put stickers up on their vehicles with nothing but their nicknames.
W. T. F?
Of this going around:
| You Are Animal |
 You thrive on uncontrolled energy, and you're downright scary. But you sure can beat a good drum. "Kill! Kill!" |
No, I'm not away from the country (though I wish I were). No, just nothing to talk about.
Not much anyway.
The haze? It happens every year. People have been talking about it. I smoke. I can't complain.
Then again, once this final pack I have finishes, I might be giving the whole 'giving-the-habit-thing-up' another try. I'll complain about the haze then.
Been on a shoot for the last month and it's ended, so I'm just looking forward to a short break of spending the money I've earned from it.
Still going down to Walas on Thursdays. Every Thursday, if the band's there.
Finished filling up the immigration papers for Canada, so it's up to the missus to print them out before I drop them off at the High Commission sometime this month.
Ink is lush. As lushed as his owner, I guess, when I allow him to lick the spills from the side of my glass.
Too tired to talk about Singapore. Gave it a shot for ten years now. Didn't work out. Not staying.
Haven't raided in WOW in a while too. Too much like work.
I'd rather be drinking.
There were two crashes today:
One was a helicopter crash involving the CEO of Kerzner International Holdings in the Dominican Republic. Kerzner International happens to be one of the bidders for the IR on Sentosa in Singapore.
The other, involved a Yankees pitcher, Cory Lidle, whose plane crashed into the side of a building in New York and sparking off more fears of a September 11-esque terror strike in that city.
My thoughts go to both families (and to those of the French train crash and Baghdad bombings).
But.
Thought of the day: which story do you think is featured on the hourly updates on CNA? And which did you think had more 'news' value?
Or 'cover-up' (and a good reason not to be home this evening).
Apparently there's going to be a visit by an imminent person to our block (our block! Ours! The honour! [turn off sarcasm]) as part of the dude's official duties, the first I've heard of since he took over the running of our ward after same lines were re-drawn at the last, um, elections.
I know this because a flyer was stuffed into the grilles of our gate informing us of it, and the cleaners that, one night before, have begun cleaning up most of flat's visible surfaces. When the missus and I got back yesterday afternoon, Lift A stunk of one-day old refuse, and the same dickwad who'd been spraying the floor of the lifts with water left in his water-bottle (and on other days, leftovers from his Coke can) had struck again. When I left for dinner with her dad in Little India (missus already left earlier for a meeting then to dinner), there was already one cleaner hard at work, mopping the floor of the lift lobby and by the time we got back from the same dinner, Lift A was clean and smelt vaguely of stale pine.
Even as I type this, I hear the guys who go floor to floor cleaning them with their high-powered hoses are going about their rounds. This, despite the fact, they were just here on Saturday. And it's a fortnight before they were supposed to come back.
Just to think, it was last week at a family dinner that someone suggested that Ministers should take public transportation at least once in their exalted lives to see how the common people lived in their country. I said: yeah, they'd do that, but their PAs and their SOs, and whoever else works in their office, will let slip their intentions to the dudes at SBS or SMRT, who'd then brief their drivers immediately, clean out at least half their fleet of trains and buses (and spray some sort sweet-smelling scent into the air). On the big day, SOs will stand around the VIP at the bus stops trying to remain incognito, while keeping passers-by a safe distance from their wards, and then be the first to board the bus to check out the passengers already on it then allow said VIP to board finally. There will be a strange lack of traffic on the roads at 8.30 in the morning, because somewhere out in front, there are 4 motorcycles on outrider duty. No, I said, it just makes things really, really inconvenient for the rest of us. No thanks. Let them dwell in their lofty castles and never come to where we are.
Which is why I won't be home tonight.
Former ad executive, teacher, now photographer (and sometime screenwriter). Wearer of many hats in my life; husband, brother, son, friend. Still hoping to save the world. Not earning as much, but infinitely happier with life in general. Which doesn't explain the angry blog.
