star trek the movie...

...absolutely blew my socks off. One of the best movies I've seen in a long time.

books that have changed my life

Ok, so these books haven't changed my life. I mean, i'm still plodding along on towards the same destination as I would have been had I not read these books, but they've definitely done something. Maybe I should have titled this post: books that have made a dent in my life.

(in no particular order)

Tiger Eyes, by Judy Blume. Aside from the dozens of Choose Your Own Adventure books I read as a child (and being kia-su I used to go back and choose all the different options to make sure I had experienced the best outcome), this is the only book that stuck in my mind. I read it in Year 5, when I was 10, and when my teachers found I was reading this book, confiscated it because there's a sex scene in the book, where heroine sleeps with the guy while she has a period, so they do it on a beach blanket to hide the mess. I have no idea why I remember that! This was probably my first inkling into grown up fiction.

Angels and Demons, by Dan Brown. Either Dan Brown had magnificent timing, or he secretly planned the assassination of the millenium. This book was released in 2005 and I read it literally just before the death of Pope John Paul II. Reading this book taught me about the processes of conclave, and the meaning of the white or black smoke. This book also taught me about Rome's architectural history, and fictitious or not, provided me with an enormous amount of appreciation when I finally made it to Rome in 2009. PS - not so crash hot on the movie.

The Bride Stripped Bare, anonymous. Wow, I don't even know what to say about this book except that it clearly left a mark because I've recommended it everyone (except my mother) and it has left the same mark on them. A fictitious story based around the concept of the discovery of a journal belonging to a woman who hurled herself off a cliff, this novel details (and when I say detail I mean detail) her most intimate and explicit feelings, leading up to her mysterious death. Every woman should read this book.

Night, by Elie Wiesel. The true story of Elie Wiesel and his Jewish family, and their experiences in Auschwitz and Buchenwald through the second world war. Slim book, but heavy. Heavy.

Twilight, by Stephenie Meyers. Need I say more? I had to force myself not to place this book on the top of this list, because it is afterall meant to be in no particular order. This book made me fall crazily, shamelessly in love with a fictional character like I have never done before. It made me inhale all four books in the series within a week, it even made me pre-order the movie on bluray, and consequently watched it too many times. It's now made me download the preview to the sequel and secretly watch it whenever Panu walks out of the room. That's dedication!

The Kite Runner, by Khaled Hosseini. The protagonist of the book is indeed not the Kite Runner of the title. The Kite Runner refers to his best friend and servant, who has the most profound impact on his life - childhood and adult. This book had me in the first paragraph, and I was glued to the very last sentence. It's written so richly that I was so sure it was non-fiction, but it's fiction... and the most colourful humanitarian story I have read in my life... from his privileged childhood in Kabul to his struggle in America, you really do believe Amir is real.

The Glass Castle, by Jeanette Walls. The complete opposite of The Kite Runner, this book chronicles Jeanette Walls' astonishingly impoverished childhood to her building a successful like in New York. And this story is real life non-fiction. Sure it might be embelished for artistic credit, but the story of her childhood is amazing, tear jerking, and really makes you appreciate what you've got.

American Gods, by Neil Gaiman. I don't think this book so much changed my life, nor did it dent it. It did however, throw a complete curve ball at me - I have never read such a bizarre book, with such crazy imaginative authoring... and this is a serious book, tackling the very real issue of modernisation vs religion. If this ever gets made into a movie, I'll be the first in line. Amazing, original, mind-boggling, addictive stuff.

much a'fuss about twitter

So it seems that in the past month, twitter has gone from big-ish to really big, to an application of gargantuan proportions. I’ve been proud a twitterer since 2007, maybe i’m ahead of the curve, maybe i’m a social networking freak, but this my friends is the future of the internet. I mean guys, Oprah signed up last week. If that isn’t a sign of big things to come, I really don’t know what is.

This is the thing: once upon a time we talked about the Internet. Then we talked about broadband, email, www. Now? We are talking instant updates, instant search, the power of utilising every person on the web as a feed. News gets on twitter faster than it gets to the journalists. This is the power of instant social networks.

I mean, I use my twitter for just talking shite really, but hey, at least I’m using it *grin*

'ludicrous' doesn't even begin to explain...

a fellow blogger posted this article about complaints BBC have been receiving against a presenter on one of their kids shows, CBeebies, solely because the presenter was born with one arm. You would think that in this day and age, acceptance of a person's ability to perform a role would go beyond race, gender and certainly physical abilities. Sadly, it appears we are still living in the Middle Ages, where hunch-backed, one-eyed and perhaps even one-armed creatures dwell in our kids nightmares.


Cerrie Burnell has received such fierce complaints, being accused of positive discrimination (obtaining the role purely because of her disability) and even being called a c*** by one viewer. Like that has anything to do with anything, moron.

i was absolutely flabbergasted and ashamed at society for such a ridiculous backlash. I know, i know, i dont have children so what would i know about what gives them nightmares? I'll admit i know nothing on the subject. But surely keeping images of another human being, one who is perfectly capable and attractive, away from them isn't going to stop the nightmares.

have you seen what else is on the idiot box these days??

ok. vented.

in other news, i am back in London, after a long 23 hour flight from Sydney. I would have been comfortable, however there was a rather large norwegian man spilling into my seat, and oh, he has a bladder the size of a peanut. glorious. nonetheless, happy to be back and getting my cuddles again!

beta blogger is the devil

Yesterday afternoon i was tinkering around with my blogger template and reading about beta blogger and its supposed benefits. I was just reading i swear, but i inadvertently clicked on something, perhaps it was the ‘switch to beta blogger’ button and suddenly my blog went ballistic.

Its complexion suddenly looked sickly spotty, kind of like measles and i knew, i knew, i had done something stupid. Beta blogger had wiped out all of my customisations and replaced them with ye-standard-olde-template. The dots template, no less. FUCK FUCK FUCK.

I know it may not look like much, but i tinker with the HTML on this blog now and then, and am actually quite proud of what i’ve done! But beta blogger, all high and mighty with its Layout Page, where you can lazily drag and drop page layouts, came and Wiped. Me. Out. It boasts that the new layout ability would save bloggers time... and you know I’m not opposed to saving time, but the depth of what you can do with the layout page is so ridiculously limited.

I gave it a go, since I thought my blog was all but ruined *RUINED! GAH!!!* anyway, i may as well try out beta blogger. but I couldn’t do anything that i wanted. The xhtml was crippling, coding everything to the widget. So painfully stifling, even for a basic html’er like myself.

I was so frustrated. I knew it was salvageable – if i was prepared to start a template from scratch again. But i wasn't. and I wanted to cry. And yell (scratch), i mean email nasty obscenities to blogger, but not surprisingly it’s one of those services where the powers that be are hidden behind a cloak of cyber jumble, letters and numbers continuously dripping like the matrix, to protect these mother f*ckers who only provide FAQs, but no real avenue to vent our frustrations.

anyway, i seethed. And after a few deep breaths and a moment of clarity, turned to my very most trusted advisor, Google. It seemed I wasn’t the first to be conned by beta blogger. One click of a search button provided me with instructions on reverting to classic blogger, and with my fingers and toes crossed... i executed the command.

i closed my eyes...

... and refreshed my blog.

and opened my eyes.

Thank the almighty God of Google. My blog is back, just as it always was.

happy love day

Valentine’s day, a Hallmark day to rival any other. Rather, to stampede on all others. I was once told that florists make more money on Valentine’s day, just this one day, than on every other day of the year combined. I mean, is that just insane? For a completely made up day?

While I’m not a frothing-at-the-mouth anti-Vday lunatic, I do believe that the day was created to take advantage of those blindly in love, laying duty in men’s hearts and desire in women’s, so that gifts are given that day, plus flowers, plus chocolates, plus a prerequisite card. The blindness of love is a Godsend on this day, because without it, you would see that Hallmark had just yanked the biggest leg of all, pocketing billions upon billions, on this one day.

Having said all that, Valentine’s day does bring happiness to a significant number of people in this world, and no one will question that. Couples are loved up, and singles party on, on what is probably the easiest day of the year to spot fellow singles. So I don’t hate, not at all.

In fact I had a good ol’ time on the big V-day. Starting the day with a run at the gym (the nutter that I am), we spent the afternoon wandering around Borough Markets, nibbling on various exotic and organic goodies. Dinner was prime Argentinian steak, courtesy of Gaucho, and we spent the evening, romantically with 20,000 other Londoners at the O2, watching my absolute hands-down favourite, Russell Peters. I laughed til i was in pain... loving, loving not being at an overpriced candle-lit dinner, but instead being with my baby, both streaming tears of laughter.

I hope you all had a great Valentine's Day, whatever you did. To each his own, and to each, much love.

venting

the incompetence level of the service industry in london is astounding. they should receive a prize, really they should. because how it is that every single facet of the service industry, from utilities to telcos to deliveries, can reduce me to tears of frustration, i dont know. I really dont.

my potty mouth is off the scale today. sorry to the people who sit around me.

can he?

can he be the man, the president and the superhero that the world wants (needs) him to be?


yes he can!

not quite que sera

sometimes the world baffles me. the random acts of terrorism seem so far removed from my life that it's just another piece of news. when the jewish couple were killed in mumbai - again to me, it was another piece of news...

... but then when I read about their baby, who was saved by its nanny, who doesn't realise what's happened... and at its parents funeral, it started crying out for its mummy...

... i actually shed some tears.