Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind is a brilliant movie. It's written by Charlie Kaufman, the same man who gave us Being John Malkovich and Adaptation. With those kind of credentials, it was guaranteed that this film was going to be a kooky one.

(SPOILERS - THIS IS ONE OF THOSE SHOWS WHICH YOU'RE BETTER OFF NOT KNOWING THE STORY BEFOREHAND)

In brief, the show's about the relationship between Joel (Jim Carrey) and Clementine (Kate Winslet). Joel and Clementine have been going out for two years now and their relationship has been rather tumultuous. After a particular bad argument, Clementine decides to have Joel erased from her memory, as if they've never met. Once he discovers that she's done that, he retaliates by going to the same clinic, Lacuna Inc., and having the same radical procedure done to him too. However, in the midst of the erasing process, he rediscovers the memories of why he fell in love with her in the first place, and tries his best to keep those memories, even going to the extent of hiding her in places where he figures they'll never look.

The movie is very sweet and poignant. Jim Carrey and Kate Winslet do a fantastic job, Jim as the bland and boring Joel who is in reality, the kind of guy who you'd dump for being too nice and too uninteresting, and Kate as the unpredictable, tempestuous and impulsive Clementine who has a weakness for alcohol. They both play the parts of two characters who could have come across as unlikable but do so in such a way that you feel for both of them. You can really see the motivation behind why either of them acts the way they do, why they're such messed up individuals. While Clementine did come across as whiny and just entirely too crazy at first, I really liked her when she asked Joel if he was ever afraid that he wasn't living live to the fullest every single possible minute. It's kind of how I've been feeling ever since work began and I have to say, the urge to want to live is stronger now more than ever.

This is the kind of film you shouldn't watch with a date. Why? Because while watching it, it made me feel as though I wanted to get back together with my ex-boyfriend. It's that kind of movie. Both you and Joel go through the same journey of discovery together. While watching him come to the realisation that the good memories make you feel so wonderful that it's worthwhile putting up with all of the bad ones, you yourself ache just a little recalling how good your own past relationships made you feel once upon a magical time.

(Added on June 2: Interestingly enough, I came across an interview with the film's producer and he mentioned that quite a few people had sent him notes of congratulations after the show's successful opening... and that he had also received notes from people mentioning that they had recently received letters from an ex.)

There're other themes in this movie as well - such as if you arrive at a point whereby you are armed with the full knowledge that the relationship you are about to enter will end disastrously, would you still go through with it? I don't know if I could. I'm the kind of person who avoids relationships simply because I know I wouldn't be able to cope with work if my social life became as messed up as my situation at work right now.

Another interesting question raised was whether love can indeed defeat science. If you were to have your memories of your ex erased and he had the same done to his memories of you, and you both were to bump into each other under the same circumstances when you initially encountered each other, would you two still fall in love?

The script is well-written with many insightful, incisive one-liners. I love how well the dialogue just seemed to flow, with nary a wrong note sounding. There were many parts in which the lines could have seemed so forced, but the excellent cast of just Carrey and Winslet but everyone managed to carry everything off.

I especially love how they had Joel not just witness his memories but interact with them. He carries out conversations with Clementine, such as during their second meeting at the Barnes & Noble's where she works, and she gives him a little speech about how she doesn't want to be anyone's saviour and he stops and smiles and just says, "I remember that speech really well." "I had you pegged, didn't I?" she grins back. It's all so natural and sweet that you can't help but love how well the two opposites seem to click.

The best scene in the film, I felt, was when the two were in the beach house after spending the day together and Clementine asks him to stay, but instead he chooses to leave as he's a little scared by how crazy she is. He says that he's going to go, so she responds, "So go!" So he does. In the middle of the memory, Joel turns around and says, "I wish I'd stayed." Clementine responds that she wishes that he had too. Then as the beach house starts to collapse around them as the memory is being erased, she asks him to come back and say goodbye. At first he protests as in reality, he just ran. "Make up a goodbye!" she says, and so he does. This scene is put together so tenderly and beautifully that I couldn't help but cry. If you had the opportunity to re-write the ending to some of your memories - knowing full well that you would never see the memory again - wouldn't you?

For me in particular, the movie had an unexpected side-effect. In the beginning, Joel and Clementine bump into each other - again - as it turns out. And while he's a little reserved and cautious, she's just so wild, energetic and impulsive and he finds himself falling in love and doing things he wouldn't ordinarily do. So guess what? After the movie, I ended up being impulsive too. I dropped by Swissotel to say hi to a certain someone attending a wedding dinner there, never mind that the cinema's located a 15 minute walk away from my house and I had to walk 45 minutes back from the hotel to get home.

In short, it's a fantastic movie. I'd love to see it again. It's one of those movies which you need to get on DVD just so you can appreciate it again and again and again.

Favourite quotes

Joel: Why do I fall in love with every woman I see that shows me the least bit of attention?

Clementine: I don't like nice. I don't like people being it at me, and I don't like being it at people.

Joel: Is there any risk of brain damage?
Howard: Well, technically speaking, the operation is brain damage.

Clementine: Joel, I'm not a concept. Too many guys think I'm a concept or I complete them or I'm going to make them alive, but I'm just a fucked up girl who is looking for my own peace of mind. Don't assign me yours.
Joel: I remember that speech really well.
Clementine: I had you pegged, didn't I?
Joel: You had the whole human race pegged.
Clementine: Probably.
Joel: I still thought you were going to save me. Even after that.

Clementine: This is it, Joel. It's going to be gone soon.
Joel: I know.
Clementine: What do we do?
Joel: Enjoy it.

http://www.blazonry.com/scripting/wuname.php

First name only: Fearless Overlord

First name + surname: Amazing Killer

I like.

A couple of weeks ago, a university friend of mine offered to set me up with some of his guy friends except that his friends were "bastards." He paused for a while here and then said, "Do you prefer bastards? Quite a lot of girls do."

The truth is... yes, I do prefer guys with a bastardly streak in them. I don't mean that I like my men to be beer-swilling, vulgarity-spewing, b****-smacking a**holes, just that I don't want them to be nice, sweet and romantic all the time. I want them to have some (hidden) streak of rebelliousness, of political incorrectness. I want a guy who I can be naughty with and who reacts to my naughtiness with a 'right back at you, babe!' kind of attitude rather than a guy who giggles nervously at my flirting and behaves like an inexperienced 16-year-old.

My ex was precisely that kind of guy. Yes, we clicked on a friend level. We clicked very well. On the physical chemistry side, we smouldered.

But I'm Catholic. Isn't the kind of guy I want to be with massive incompatible with my religious beliefs?

Well... the answer to that question is obviously: Yes. But there's nothing that says that I'm intending to go beyond the verbal flirtation that I normally go through with the guys I like. I just wish for once that one of the local guys, when confronted with my brand of naughty flirting, responded in kind rather than go all schoolboy on me. Be coy, be direct, be anything! Just stop acting so shyly innocent when we both know that you're not!

I guess... females do indeed prefer jerks over nice guys - not because of the whole "maybe I can change him" issue, but rather more because the jerk exudes greater sexual appeal. He's comfortable with his sexuality. And so, we're comfortable with ours and we aren't afraid to reveal ourselves as sexual beings. Nice guys, on the other hand, seem so repressed that we're afraid that we'll have to teach you everything - even if we ourselves don't have any such experience.

While it's true that sex isn't and shouldn't be the be-all and end-all of a relationship, I'm finding that at my current stage in life when I don't intend to get married within the next five years, I'd prefer relationships without commitment, relationships with people who know how to make me feel good - not in the cerebral, intellectual, emotional sense (since I can get that with ordinary friends), but in the physical sense.

I'm sorry. Am I a bad person?

New books added to my wishlist
What Men Know About Sex
No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency by Alexander McCall Smith
Eats, Shoots and Leaves by Lynn Tusse
Tales From A Broad by Fran Lebowitz
The Call of the Mall by Paco Underhill

I've been so terribly busy lately that I haven't had the time to recap what's been going on in my life. Since Monday, I've either been working late or sleeping extremely late and as a result, am absolutely exhausted.

On Tuesday, I ended up winning a pair of tickets to the Black Eyed Peas concert. Coloured me exhilirated yet unenthused - I had something due the next day and wanted to work late so that I could finish it off the day after and get it in. I was even contemplating giving the tickets away just so my friends could enjoy it, but a couple of people convinced me to stop working so hard and just go enjoy the show since I'd been meaning to see it prior to the heavy workload I'm under right now. It was a brilliant show - the Peas are clearly great live performers. Fergie exudes stage presence and sexuality, while the others - Taboo, Apl de Ap and Will.i.am - are all fantastic MCs with a great sense of dancing - either breakdancing or some other funky style. I screamed so much that till this day, my voice - not my throat - still hurts.

On Wednesday, I ended up working till 3.30 am. I came in for work on Thursday at 11 am (two hours later than usual) and left work at 12 midnight. On Friday, I came in at 8.20 am (40 mins earlier than usual) and left work at 8.45 pm. On the plus side, I went to Zouk to watch Maestro, a movie on the beginnings of dance music and dance culture. I don't know why but I love watching all these movies about the origins of pop culture, most notably dance music. It was really cool getting to see something that was so new and so different back in then such that there was no name for it. I wish I get to experience something like that some day. There was free flow of Martell, but one Martell Green Tea almost knocked me out (since my tolerance goes down tremendously when I'm so physically tired).

On Saturday, I went for my 11 am facial appointment and conked out pretty much after I lay down. My aesthetician said that I must have been very tired since I just fell asleep really quickly. So since I didn't have any pimples to extract, she worked on making my face more radiant. Thanks, dearie. I really needed that.

And I finally got to wear my Miss Sixty dress - to a former colleague's wedding. There're always so many people at the wedding dinner that I find myself wondering whether I'll be able to find that many people to invite to my own wedding... whenever that may be!

My friend's father has been diagnosed with leukaemia.

Just a couple of weeks ago, her cousin - only 30, and with four kids - was diagnosed as being in the advanced stages of terminal stomach cancer.

I have to confess to not being a very good Catholic here. I don't believe in miracles. Nor do I trust in guardian angels.

But God, if there's one thing I'm asking you for, it's that you give my friend and her family the strength to get through this.

How come Tatsuya Ishida always seems to be able to pick up on what I've been feeling?

I think I'm falling.

I can actually see an 'us', imagine wedding bells and many happy years together.

And that's completely freaking me out. I imagine it would freak the hell out of you as well. After all, we haven't known each other for that long.

I'm astonished by how similar we are... and the very fact that you fit every one of my incredibly demanding criteria. I'm not even looking to see if you do. I know you do.

The very fact that I feel this way totally weirds me out. I keep yelling at my brain to stop thinking of these stupid, little girl, young thoughts. This is not me. This is not the me that I know. I need to be in control.

Please, someone, smack me so that I can return to my usual self.

Meaningful milestones that have occurred in the past 24 hours:
- First time I've worked late on a Friday night
- First time I stayed in the office till past midnight. Left at 1.30 am on Saturday morning.
- First time I've gone on a blind date.
- First time in a looooong time I've gone on a date.
- First time that I've had two dates with two different people on the same day.
- First time I've gone out with a guy wearing a pink shirt. A very pink shirt, I might add.

Heh.

But seriously, I've had a really interesting twenty-four hours and that includes only five hours of sleep.

I've got a heck of a lot of work to do and really tight deadlines now. I'm at the point where I'm wondering if I should even bother because even if I were to sacrifice each and every single night that I have from now until the end of May, there's no way I'd be able to finish everything I've got to hand in. I'm at the stage where everything seems so hopeless that you've got to wonder... why bother?

But on the other hand, the crazier work seems to get, the crazier my life itself seems to get. I ended up talking to the guy who made his appearance in this blog just about a week ago for two hours when I got home at 2 am ("New Guy" or "NG" for short). I don't know what it is about him, or why all of a sudden, there's this guy who's able to take my mind off overseas guy who just seems to be blowing hot and cold ("OG").

It makes me feel a little bad that I've been having the crush on OG for so long and then... now, no longer. I feel a little like a scumbag even. As if I've cheated on him or something. Which is so very strange as I don't owe him anything.

I feel as if I don't have much control over that side of my personality anymore. It's like I've left the door open and as long as I trust my instincts, I'll just throw myself into the game that's so incredibly fun to play. I guess, the very least I'll get out of it is a couple of weeks of entertainment. It's a horrible thing to say, but please bear in mind that I have never set out with the intention of hurting others... and that quite frankly, the person who gets hurt most of the time is just me.

In any case, NG has clarified that he's been single for the last couple of weeks. Apparently, he's been treating his now ex-girlfriend like a sister, so she says. I'm a little relieved (I have no wish to be the third party again, albeit that was unknowingly) and a little concerned. I don't generally trust people who're recently single. I'd like to know for certain that I'm not the rebound girl, you know?

So. I went out with him today to watch Shrek 2. It was nice. It was even kind of cute when in the middle of the show, when I was sniffling a little (you know, the part where the Fairy Godmother speaks to Shrek and tells him that if he really loves Fiona, he'll let her go) and NG leaned over to say that he hates that line and then paused to ask if I was crying. For the record, I wasn't, though I'm fairly certain an accurate description of my eyes would have been 'glistening'.

He seems... genuine, if you get what I mean. And I guess, I really am a little interested. And... so is he, if you take little signs like his calling our movie thing a date. It's nice when two parties are on the same page. But still, I'm not going to call him for a while. The rapidity of action is sometimes what gets me falling in the first place. It's as if you're trying to install something permanent, something regular in your life so that the day you don't see it, it feels strange and you start to miss it. And besides, as I said earlier, I don't want to be the rebound girl. I think that's my main priority right now.

The blind date was interesting. No instant sparks. Just friendly conversation. Went better than I expected. But then again, I can talk to almost anyone and I'm very friendly and genuine... so... who wouldn't want to get to know me?

Heh.

This is one of the more beautiful hymns that I've ever heard:

All Heaven Declares
Noel and Tricia Richards

All heaven declares the glory of the Risen Lord;
Who can compare with the beauty of the Lord?
Forever He will be the Lamb upon the throne;
I gladly bow the knee and worship Him alone.

I will proclaim the glory of the Risen Lord;
Who once was slain to reconcile man to God.
Forever You will be the Lamb upon the throne;
I gladly bow the knee and worship You alone.

The only problem is that I thought it was "I gladly bow MY knee" and mentioned it to my friend... who mis-heard me and now, to both of us, it's "I gladly Bob Marley..."

I couldn't keep a straight face during Mass after that.

I've been dancing the last three nights and despite the fact that it's had an adverse effect on my productivity, it has undoubtedly managed to save my sanity for this week. I have so much fun dancing that I don't know how I've been able to live without it for so long.

At the same time, it causes me an undue amount of stress. You see, I love dancing. But I'm not that great at it. Or maybe I do have some sort of aptitude for it but I worry too much. I keep wondering why I can't get certain moves when others can. And maybe I should just let it go. I'm not saying that I should stop striving for perfection in dancing, just that I should stop obsessing so much about it and just relax and do the best I can. Sooner or later, it'll come to me with practice.

In the same way, I should stop worrying what others think about me when I dance. So what if I make a mistake? If I'm a good person to dance with, I don't have to concentrate so much on what I'm doing and whether I'm making any mistakes. I should just chill and go with the flow.

I want so desperately to be good at the dances I do, and to have style too - my own style that is.

So, God, this is my prayer. The wish that I would actually go all the way to the Novena to request for. This is my love and passion, Lord. Help me to give it my all.

I have often thought that whenever there's anything going on in my mundane life, it happens in soap operatic proportions. What's been happening since Saturday has not proved me wrong.

Before I begin, let me recite two other occasions when this theory turned out to be dead on. How I got together with my first boyfriend... and how I got together with my second.

Now let's start. There's the guy who I'd been having a crush on since January. Long story short, I basically gave him a big clue as to how I felt about him. And of course, then I met the guy who's been mentioned in the previous few posts. And as the final topping on the sundae, I've got a blind date this weekend, courtesy of my friend, the professional dating consultant.

All of a sudden, I feel rather terrified.

Conversation between my mother and myself during Mass last Sunday:

Mum: Hey, you know, you might run into your boss here.
Me: I think I saw a statue of the Virgin Mary in her office.
Mum: Then she can't be that bad.
Me: Mum, I'm sure Mussolini had a crucifix in his office. I'm also certain Saddam Hussein recited the Quran every night. That didn't make them nice people.

I'm sorry, God, but that had to be said.

With regards to the last post, I decided to Magic 8-Ball it just for the heck of it.

Q: Does he really like me?
A: Signs point to yes.

Q: Does he have a girlfriend?
A: My sources say no.

Q: Did they break up recently?
A: The outlook is certain.

Q: So does he really like me?
A: Yes.

Q: Or does he see this as a fling?
A: Negative.

Wow. Five questions and it gave me all the answers I want to hear. Who would have thought?

Men. They're thoroughly confusing. And f***ing frustrating too, to boot.

In short. Men. Are. Bastards.

Maybe I am generalising, but it's hard to fully trust a male given all the kinds of crap that my friends (and I) have been through. It's difficult to allow yourself the luxury of being the once-gullible, innocent, trusting person that you once were and see that maybe, just maybe, the guy who's talking to you could in fact be a really nice guy. Actually... Bollocks.

Earlier today, the guy who I'd given my phone number too, and who had called me up yesterday night "just to chat" went all the way to the gym which I was supposed to be going to although it was out of his way 'cos he figured we could hang out after we'd both finished. The thing is... I had decided to skip my class at my regular gym and go to the one closer to my house (and also the one which he was originally planned to go to) because I wanted to get home in time to watch the first episode of Friends - Season 10. So. Erm. Major whoops.

Given all this evidence, one would suspect that this guy's into me. Firstly, I gave him my number and although he said "Maybe I'll call you," (which by the way, got me more than a little confused - but hey, I'm the Queen of Qualifiers, so I know a way out when I see one) and he actually did call within twenty-four hours, no less. We chatted for about an hour and a half in total yesterday night.

Secondly, he went all the way to the gym which I was supposed to be at despite the fact that he was pretty tired from work. While I'd been willing to overlook the first big hint because I honestly don't trust my own judgement, this second hint is far too obvious too ignore.

Do I mind a guy coming on this strong this early? Usually, yes. I get more than a little freaked out. But this guy... he's different. I kind of like talking to him. He's nice. And from what I recall, he's not bad looking either. And - he dances. I mean, he really dances. Do you have any idea how rare that is in a guy?

Now, here's the catch. I don't have any idea as to whether he's taken. A guy this eligible usually cannot be single and available, particularly if he goes clubbing every weekend. Plus, I've met other people from his school - this being Singapore and all, you can pretty much figure a person out by the schools they're from - and quite a few of them are from the "I know I'm good looking and all I'm after is a fling" school of thought.

Plus. Yes. I Google'd him. It does indeed seem as though as recently as April of this year that he was still attached and very much in love.

You might call what I'm doing stalker-ish. I choose to think of it as an early warning mechanism that allows me to not let my guard down unneccessarily. I've been hurt before. It's not something I want to go through again. Not when I've got so much going on at work.

1: Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 18, find line 4. Write down what it says:
I'm reading a comic. So what the fourth line says is:
Something that vacuum--brained friend of yours can't manage.

2: Stretch your left arm out as far as you can. What do you touch first?
A chair.

3: What is the last thing you watched on TV?
Scrubs.

4: WITHOUT LOOKING, guess what time it is:
4.15 pm.

5: Now look at the clock, what is the actual time?:
4.15 pm. I'm da man!

6: With the exception of the computer, what can you hear?:
A car driving out of my housing estate. The sound system of my computer is shot right now.

7: When did you last step outside? what were you doing?
11.35 pm, yesterday night. I was on my way to Zouk to listen to Ferry Corsten.

8: Before you came to this website, what did you look at?
Google.

9: What are you wearing?
Pyjamas: A Venice T-shirt with a cat on it and a pair of denim shorts.

10: Did you dream last night?
No. Too tired.

11: When did you last laugh?
Early this morning, when I returned home from clubbing. I was laughing from the sheer exhiliration. Ferry was fantastic - as was the crowd.

12: What is on the walls of the room you are in?
Nothing. There're lots of stuff on the floor though.

13: Seen anything weird lately?
That'll depend on your definition. A drunk Korean, a larger-than-usual podium girl... Erm. No. I guess I haven't.

14: What do you think of this quiz?
It's interesting in a brain-numbing kind of way.

15: What is the last film you saw?
Van Helsing. It's so bad it's good. Or Evolution, if you count cable.

16: If you became a multi-millionaire overnight, what would you buy first?
First? A new pair of running shoes. Some dance clothes from dancestore.com.

17: Tell me something about you that I don't know:
I like watching Disney animated films.

18: If you could change one thing about the world, regardless of guilt or politics, what would you do?
I'm not sure. World peace would be really boring.

19: Do you like to dance?
No. I LOVE to dance.

20: George Bush:
Is an idiot. 'Nuff said.

21: Imagine your first child is a girl, what do you call her?
Rhiannon.

21: Imagine your first child is a boy, what do you call him?
Daniel. Or Matthew.

22: Would you ever consider living abroad?
Definitely, baby. If for work, London and New York. For leisure, Venice, Paris or Prague.

23: What is the name of your closest neighbour?
Mrs. T.

Went to Zouk last night to partake of the genius that is Ferry Corsten. I had a fantastic time. Four and three-quarter hours of greatness. Trance, electro and then more trance anthems. And who would have thought that I'd enjoy the electro parts just that tiny little bit more than the trance-y bits? For once, I managed to leave all of my troubles at the door before entering Zouk. Usually, whatever stress I'm going through just stays on my mind and I end up brooding rather than enjoying the music and dancing.

Yes. I had a blast of a time last night. I wasn't intending to drink, but I ended up the night, after three G & Ts, one peach Breezer and one Bourbon Coke, a tad tipsy. In case you're wondering why I constantly count the number of drinks I have, it's just so that I can see if my tolerance is increasing in any way.

And yesterday night was my very first pick-up ever in Zouk. Or more like, it's the first time someone - or someones - tried to pick me up. An English bloke working in Singapore who seems enamoured of all Singaporean girls (quote "I'd trade ten of these girls for you" unquote) and his South African client who started off the whole thing by giving me the peach Breezer since he only wanted one bottle but it was a one-for-one special.

Ended up using my friend to rescue me and met with another one of his friends who turned out to be surprisingly okay. I say surprisingly because most of the people I've ever seen from that crowd tend to be loud and raucous and are generally above average in terms of looks but have that "I know I'm good-looking" vibe about that, if you get what I mean.

And the ultimate compliment - paid by that friend of his - "You look happy."

Do you have any idea how long it's been since I've had that fun a time?

A colleague from Korea was in Singapore on training for the whole of last week. Because we had been too busy to go out with him during the week, we ended up giving him a joyous send-off yesterday night. As a result, we spent five hours in a karaoke room. Yes. Five. Furthermore, I ended up singing a Mandarin song: Teresa Teng's Yue Liang Dai Biao Wo De Xin.

It was nice seeing my Korean friend again since the last time I saw him was when we were in Manila for training in September last year. Last night, he was commenting on how nice it was to see us again and that some of us have changed quite a lot, and all of a sudden (since I wasn't really paying much attention, trying to choose a song), he said, "And this is referring to YOU, by the way!" I was like, "What? Okay... For the better or for the worse?" And he said, "Waaaaaaaay better!"

Later, he said, "You look fantastic! So tell me the truth. Did you get a new boyfriend? What happened? How come you changed so much?"

Okay, God. So it looks like you were listening when I was trudging home from work late last night. Thanks.

Tell me what exactly it is about life that I should be thankful for.

Tell me what exactly it is in my life that I should be rejoicing for.

Tell me what exactly it is about me that I should be grateful for.

The answer to all of those questions is one word: nothing.

Another reason why I liked Van Helsing despite its obvious flaws - the two NS boys sitting behind me were giving a running commentary on the show.

At the moment when one of the brides of Dracula turns up and kidnaps Anna (Kate Beckinsale) right after the gang had spent many days trying to get Frankenstein's Monster out of Transylvania and now, in order to rescue Anna, would have to trudge all the way back...
NS Man #1: Wah. Travel so far, now have to go all the way back. Wah, chee bai.

I'm sorry. I'm a gentle girl at heart but Hokkien - no matter how vulgar - always makes me laugh.


NS Man #2: I tell you ah. Frankenstein's Monster really looks like my PC (short for Platoon Commander).

Ah. NS boys. So amusing.

I went back to my high school yesterday for Raffles Move and Groove. Why I bothered to go, I'm not entirely certain. My two years in that place - even with the blessing of having found a wonderful person who eventually became my first boyfriend - were not at all happy ones. You see, my school is very academically inclined. That means that most of the teachers merely focus on the grades you're getting rather than on their own teaching/lecturing methodology and how to inspire students to do better. My civics tutor was certainly one such teacher. When I saw him yesterday, I didn't want to talk to him, but politeness and civility (as I am a well-brought-up girl after all) dictated that I ought to at least say hi. So I did. We had a rather awkward conversation for a while before he said, "I don't think I did a very good job with your batch." "No s***, Sherlock," I thought, but of course, didn't say. "Why is that?" I said. "Because your batch had a low rate of A's," was the reply.

Is that what teachers really think? That their success rate should be measured by the number of A's that their students get? What about the kind of person that your pupils become? Wouldn't a teacher be happier knowing that even though someone they taught underachieved and didn't manage to get the A the teacher so wanted them to get, that at least the student then went on to make something of himself? Getting a scholarship isn't the only sign of success, no matter how much we've been trained to think like that.

And that, in a nutshell, sums up part of why I hated my time in high school. If you were to ask me to donate money to my secondary school or my university, I would - gladly. But my high school? I'm sorry. I have far too many unhappy memories of the place. Of course, my friends never knew. I'm a well-adjusted, tough, responsible girl. I can cope - without having anyone know how much I was suffering in that damn place.

But anyway, yesterday was, fortunately, a happy occasion. I met up with old friends and managed to attract a great deal of attention because I was walking around in a beautiful Phuture mini-skirt that somehow had the same colour scheme as my old school. Yes, I managed to look not like the working professional that I've been for the past 21 months, but instead, like a cheerleader fresh out of school. And, not meaning to sound arrogant or anything, but I did look good. Heh.

Reading Wish List
Non-Fiction:
Reading Lolita in Tehran
Bitch: In Praise of Difficult Women by Elizabeth Wurtzel
The Bitch in the House: 26 Women Tell the Truth About Sex, Solitude, Work, Motherhood, and Marriage by Cathi Hanauer
Beware the Club Girls by Todd Allen

Fiction:
Fashionistas by Lynn Messina
The Devil Wears Prada by Lauren Weisberger
Tempting Faith DiNapoli by Lisa Gabriele
The Gospel According To The Son by Norman Mailer
Good in Bed by Jennifer Weiner

Health, Beauty & Fashion:
Don't Go To The Cosmetics Counter Without Me by Paula Begoun
The Power of Makeup by Trish McEvoy
Secrets of Style: InStyle's Complete Guide to Dressing Your Best Every Day by Lisa Arbetter
The Lucky Shopping Manual: Building and Improving Your Wardrode Piece by Piece by Kim France and Andrea Linett
The Art of Makeup by Kevyn Aucoin
The S Factor: Strip Workouts For Every Women by by Sheila Kelley

I watched Van Helsing today. I'd been looking forward to this movie since I saw the trailers two weeks back. I mean, Hugh Jackman, Kate Beckinsale, vampires, werewolves, Frankenstein's monster and a vampire hunter... what more could you ask for?

Well... while I did indeed want to see this movie, the truth is... I had no idea what to expect when I sat down in the cinema. Was it good? Erm. It's one of those movies which is so bad that it's good. The special effects are fantastic, the acting passable, the plot terrible, the dialogue dreadful and the accents painful.

Did I enjoy it? Kind of. The same way people enjoy watching William Hung sing. The ending, meant to be sad, I know, made me laugh like hell. And I know I wasn't the only one in the cinema feeling that way. I'm not going to even bother spending time giving a review on the show. If you're in the mood for something brainless, stupid and visually stunning at the same time, go watch Van Helsing. It's got two gorgeous men - Hugh Jackman and Will Kemp (and one above average one - David Wenham) and one sexy lady dressed in leather - Kate Beckinsale.

In a world where the 'coolness quotient' of an activity is becoming a more important factor in our decision-making, this just might come in handy for convincing people of the need to keep abreast of current affairs.

If you, like I, are completely clueless about this year's upcoming U.S. Presidential Elections, perhaps this charming little guide of who's who will help you out. Some other interesting sites include Donald Luskin's The Conspiracy To Keep You Poor and Stupid, Andrew Sullivan's Daily Dish and Glenn Reynolds' InstaPundit.

Art or porn?

You scored 7 out of a possible 10.

There are two explanations for how you've done so well. 1: You're a devotee of great cinematic art, and recognise key moments in film history when you see them. 2: You have a huge stash of vintage porn.

Are you a Tarantino buff?

You scored 5 out of a possible 10.

Reasonable. You have a fairly comprehensive knowledge of one of the most prominent film-makers of his generation. Your achievement is tempered by the fact that Quentin has so far made six films. Five if you count Kill Bill as one. It's not like you're an expert on Hitchcock or anything.

Caught the launch of Mamma Mia today. As it was essentially an event to try and convince corporates to sponsor little gatherings for their staff and/or customers, the event was appropriately glitzy. There were performances by the cast, food provided by Swissotel, wines provided by Wine Bos and little gift bags that came with T-shirts and CDs.

Seeing as I'm in no position to organise a customer or staff event at $265 per person (inclusive of wine, dinner, ticket and special gifts), I truly didn't deserve to be there. All the same, I had a great time. The female lead, played by Silvie Paladino, has a truly awesome singing voice and expressive eyes. I was convinced she was going to cry in her rendition of The Winner Takes It All. I really wanted to see this show when I was in London but couldn't afford the tickets, so I'm really looking forward to being able to catch it at the Esplanade, with its wonderful acoustics. And who knows? I might just see it more than once! This year might just be the year of the '70s for me - Bee Gees in the first half of the year and Abba in the second!

With all that good luck, it would figure that something bad had to happen. First, my laptop appeared to have been attacked by the Sasser worm, but I couldn't find any trace of it after my laptop's unexpected shutting down by itself. Then, after downloading the Microsoft security patch, my laptop hung after the necessary reboot. Yes, that's right. The patch crashed my Windows OS.

I think I could have lived with the worm. At least that way, I would still have access to my files.