I wrote a really long post about the Norah Jones concert, enjoying the Chivas life and listening to Frankie Manning talk about his life. Unfortunately, blogger encountered some technical difficulties and that post is now gone. I may try to recreate the post at a later date but for now, this will have to suffice.

Norah Jones was amazing. Her voice sounds even better live than it does on her CDs, and that's not at all an easy thing to do. Her first few songs - about love and the joys of being in love - were sung with a quiet intensity that was so optimistic that for the duration of the concert, I believed in the innocence and possibility of love again. Despite the large size of the venue, the throaty, dulcet tones of her voice made the concert seem like a rather intimate affair. In between songs, she would talk to the audience and be all giggly and shy, as if she couldn't believe that over 5,000 of us would turn up just for her. The loudest applause for the night was reserved for my three favourite songs: Don't Know Why, Come Away With Me and Turn Me On. Of course, I've heard those songs many times indeed, but she made them sound as fresh as the first time I fell in love with them.

The Chivas Regal post-concert supper party was held at Bar None. I went there by myself as my friends decided to head off to Max Brenner's Chocolate Bar. I was a little apprehensive being alone, but the lure of the free flow of Chivas was too much for me to resist. Besides, I reasoned that as Bar None was on my way home, so no harm done if the party happened to be crappy. It turned out that the resident band, Nine Lives, was playing that night. And to my delight, they played the rock songs I so loved, such as Goo Goo Dolls - Iris. So as I stood, listening to fantastic live music with Chivas in hand, still aglow from having experienced Norah Jones live, I thought... this really is the life, man.

The set list for the Singapore concert is very similar to the set list for her concert in Brazil on December 11 2004.

Watched Lady Salsa yesterday night. It's a showcase about salsa as shown through the history of Cuba and the life story of Trinidad Rolando, Lady Salsa herself. I had fun but it didn't grab me as much as I thought it would. I guess it was because the quality of the dancers wasn't consistent; some were excellent, while others were below average... and it showed. The music was rather enjoyable. At the very least, it sounded varied enough for me to refrain from my usual complaint about salsa music.

A reviewer from the local paper said that while the show will not doubt please everyone who watches it, she felt that due to duration the dancers have been away from Cuba on tour, that some of the passion has been lost, compared to the time she saw them in Genting. I don't have a basis for comparison, but I'm going to have to agree with her because I felt a little detached for some parts of the show, despite their introducing my beloved big band music into some segments. On the whole, I had an enjoyable time, especially when they were getting the audience dancing.

I had been quite excited about the show given the rave reviews it got in London while I was still there. I have just visited the show's official site and saw that a reviewer from The Independent in 2001 said "In case I should ever find myself unchaperoned in some low dive in Santiago de Cuba, I now know how to say "I no want sleep with you" without fear of misunderstanding or reproach. Should a lady's dancing partner suddenly make an unwelcome pass midway through the salsa, she should pointedly cover her crotch with both hands in a sudden, coy movement, while saucily raising her eyebrows and inverting her knees, all without breaking the rhythm of the dance." Now, that definitely didn't occur during any part of the show I was watching. And apparently, Trinidad is known as the queen of erotic Salsa in Cuba. Perhaps that's another reason why I was anticipating more than what was given to us.

One thing I am taking away from the show though... I want to learn the authentic street salsa now, not the ballroom-ised version that they teach in classes. I don't know what it's called, but it's the salsa that you're supposed to see on the streets of Cuba, like what Diego Luna did in Dirty Dancing 2: Havana Nights.

"When you take dancing lessons, you learn steps and you learn steps and you learn steps. It can go on for a long time. And then one day, you just learn to dance, and it is so different."
- Bill Austin

On Thursday and Friday, I had to wake up early to get to work by 8 am for conference calls. On these two days, I got less than five hours of sleep on any one night, and discovered that waking up early does not do me good. In fact, up until lunch time, I was completely out of it, unable to concentrate because of the overwhelming fatigue I was feeling. This was exacerbated by the my constantly being interrupted for a departmental project I'm co-ordinating, which, naturally, ensured my concentration was shot to bits.

Still, I soldiered on... that is, until the hard disk of my laptop committed suicide, rendering all of the data stored inside irrecoverable. Ouch.

What is it with men and their ridiculous defense maneuvers? No, this time it hasn't happened to me, but to a friend of mine.

I don't want to commit at this point in time, but I'd like to continue seeing you?

Is that guyspeak for "I want to continue living the wild, swinging bachelor life I've been living and enjoy all the perks of having a girlfriend like you but without having to suffer any of the inconveniences"?

I'm telling you this because I think we have different expectations and I don't want you to get hurt.

And what's this all about? "I'm really a bastard, so don't love me or you'll get hurt"? "This is my cop-out mechanism so that in the future, when things get ugly, I can claim that I never wanted any of this to happen because of the caveat which I told you about at the beginning of our relationship"?

Bugger all this for a bunch of carrots.

I've gotten home later than 9 pm for the past three nights. I've been up till ungodly hours on Tuesday and Wednesday working on my CV. Every five minutes, I revamp it so much that were it not for the content, it would be unrecognisable from its previous incarnations. I'm not satisified with it just yet. Still, I've sent it off for my first job application since the day the bomb was dropped. I'm well aware of the 5% rule of job applications... Nevertheless, my fingers are crossed.

Meanwhile, it's back to CV tweaking and referee hunting.

I was watching A Night For Ray Charles earlier today and was blown away by the passion of the performers as they paid tribute to the late soul, R&B and country genius. Admittedly, although his career spans decades and his performance of his own songs - or others - is undoubtedly full of soul, I hadn't heard of any of the songs other than Georgia On My Mind (done surprisingly well by Usher) and I Can't Stop Loving You (by a rather sedate Reba McEntire, in comparison to the other performers, I felt).

One of the stand-out performances of the night was Stevie Wonder's rendition of I've Got A Woman. From one genius to another, indeed.

In any case, the song which got my attention was You Don't Know Me, performed in a rather jazzy way by country singer Kenny Chesney. I like the lyrics on unrequited (and unnoticed) love.

You Don't Know Me
written by Eddy Arnold
most memorably performed by Ray Charles

You give your hand to me
And then you say, "Hello."
And I can hardly speak,
My heart is beating so.
And anyone can tell
You think you know me well.
Well, you don't know me.
(no you don't know me)
No you don't know the one
Who dreams of you at night;
And longs to kiss your lips
And longs to hold you tight
Oh I'm just a friend.
That's all I've ever been.
Cause you don't know me.
(no you don't know me)
For I never knew the art of making love,
Though my heart aches with love for you.
Afraid and shy, I let my chance go by.
A chance that you might love me too.
(love me too)
You give your hand to me,
And then you say, "Goodbye."
I watched you walk away,
Beside the lucky guy
Oh, you'll never ever know
The one who loved you so.
Well, you don't know me
(For I never knew the art of making love, )
(Though my heart aches with love for you. )
Afraid and shy, I let my chance go by.
A chance that you might love me too.
(love me too)
Oh, you give your hand to me,
And then you say, "Goodbye."
I watched you walk away,
Beside the lucky guy
Oh, you'll never ever know
The one who loved you so.
Well, you don't know me
(you don't love me, you don't know me)

James Holden wasn't that great. I mean, the music was good... but only if you were sitting down in a plush sofa and chilling with a drink in your hand and didn't have any inclination to move whatsoever. He only really got the crowd bouncing for the last 45 minutes of his set (including his encore of Nothing and an extremely fast track which I would've thought was humanly impossible to dance to had I not succeeded).

For me, personally, the four and a quarter hour wait till the end was worth it if only because I got to go behind the decks and got James' autograph and photo, thanks to the very lovely, very sweet Aldrin. Thank you so much!

James' productions are superb - Horizons, Solstice, Nothing, A Break In The Clouds - and his "non-live" work is fantastic. Balance 005, for instance, was nothing short of superb. And of course, I love him simply because he's from the same college as my brother!

Up next:
Way Out West are coming! And they'll be performing a live set and a DJ set!

Oh happy happy day!

CD Reviews
Progressive Sounds: Don't Look Now (Way Out West's latest album)
About.Com: Don't Look Now
BBC: Intensify (includes the fantastic Mindcircus)

Michael:I don't know anyone who could get through the day without two or three juicy rationalizations. They're more important than sex.
Sam: Ah, come on. Nothing's more important than sex.
Michael: Oh yeah? Have you ever gone a week without a rationalization?
- The Big Chill (1983)

Rationalization: A defense mechanism, operating unconsciously, in which an individual attempts to justify or make consciously tolerable by plausible means, feelings or behavior that otherwise would be intolerable.

I'm trying my hardest to get past what happened at work, but at times when my mind's not completely occupied, I find myself alternating between burning resentment and trying my damnest to rationalise why it is that I'm the only one in my department not to receive a bonus.

I find myself wondering if it's because my boss doesn't like me, or if it could be because my boss is a sociopath who has no idea how to manage people, or really because my boss was concerned that my colleague may leave if she didn't receive anything after she had made her unhappiness known. But, Occam's Razor dictates that the simplest solution must be the one preferred until proven wrong, and in this case, the simplest solution is... that my performance was really shit. And if I accept that, it'll kill me.

I was incredibly close to tears prior to leaving the office tonight as I was thinking over the amount of hard work and time that I've put into this job. I've always taken my job very seriously and in spite of my natural inclination towards laziness, I will do my best to accomplish anything and everything that you give to me. But if everything I've put in isn't good enough, then what's the point? Am I even in the right industry? And if I can't do the career I've chosen well, then... what now?

Today, the seventh day of Chinese New Year, is Ren Ri, or every man's birthday. To celebrate, one traditionally eats a dish called Qi Yang Cai (literally seven kinds of vegetables) and Yu Sheng (lucky raw fish).

The point of Yu Sheng is to secure prosperity in the year to come, and a running patter on the part of the host, or waiter, is part of the deal, as is a meticulous set-up.

A mound of shredded vegetables should be at centerstage, surrounded by five mounds of raw fish and small dishes holding flavorings. As each is added to the salad, the server calls out a wish for health or wealth (mostly wealth), and in the end the diners toss the salad and call out "lo hei!" - literally "to rise" or "mix it up," but with the sentimental meaning "to prosper more and more."

Steps For The Presentation of Yu Sheng
(adapted from the CNY feature in The Sunday Times, 18 Jan 05)

1. The dish of vegetables arrives. Say Gong Xi Fa Cai (become rich) and Wan Shi Ru Yi (smooth sailing)
2. Squeeze the lime over the fish on a separate plate. Say Da Ji Da Li (to be very auspicious).
   
3. Place the fish over the vegetables. Say Nian Nian You Yu (to have a surplus every year).
4. Sprinkle pepper (in a red packet) over the dish. Say Hong Yun Dang Tou (good luck at your doorstep).
   
5. Sprinke cinnamon powder (in a green packet) over the dish. Say Qing Chun Chang Zhu.
6. Add the peanut oil to the dish. Say Rong Hua Fu Gui (wealth and prosperity).
   
7. Add the plum sauce to the dish. Say Sheng Yi Xing Long. (to have a prosperous business)
   
8. Add the crackers to the dish. Say Man Di Huang Jin (to obtain much wealth)
9. Toss the Yu Sheng. Say Yue Lao Yue Qi (toss higher for a prosperous year) and Lao Dao Feng Shen Shui Qi.

Supposedly, the higher you toss without making a mess, the more luck you earn.

"Two lost souls... fall into conversation about their marriages, their happiness and the meaning of it all. These conversations can really only be held with strangers. We all need to talk about metaphysics, but those who know us well want details and specifics; strangers allow us to operate more vaguely on a cosmic scale. When the talk occurs between two people who could plausibly have sex together, it gathers a special charge: you can only say "I feel like I've known you for years" to someone you have not known for years. Funny, how your spouse doesn't understand the bittersweet transience of life as well as a stranger encountered in a hotel bar. Especially if drinking is involved."
- Review of Lost In Translation, Roger Ebert.

"There is a meeting of the minds (our most erotic organs)."
- Review of Before Sunrise, Roger Ebert.

"If there's any kind of magic in this world, it must be in the attempt of understanding someone, sharing something. I know, it's almost impossible to succeed, but... who cares, really? The answer must be in the attempt."
- Celine, Before Sunrise

I was reading the Chicago Tribune's article on the Grammys when I read that U2 performed Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own instead of Vertigo. I rushed downstairs to tape the remainder of the Grammys, only to turn on the television to find U2 halfway through the song. Their performance was great: stately, dignified, classic.

If that's to be my only break on Valentine's Day, I'll take it. In fact, I'm sitting here now, with tears in my eyes, listening to SYCMIOYO on repeat.

U2's minimalist performance of "Sometimes You Can't Make it On Your Own" was characteristic U2, sincere and brilliant.
- National Review Online

U2's luminous performance stands out in stark relief

The moment: In refreshing contrast to the spectacles that punctuated the rest of the show, U2 performed a heartfelt and unadorned Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own against a backdrop of white light. The focus never strayed from the music, a melancholy plaint with an invigorating chorus. No flailing dancers or street-chic costumes or gimmicky mash-ups.

Why it's momentous: U2's latest eruption turns up the heat for a sweep at next year's Grammys, when their How to Dismantle an Atomic Bombis eligible, and intensifies excitement for the upcoming Vertigo Tour. The band's global dominance also makes one wonder: Is the Irish quartet closing an era of rock giants? Or in 25 years, will the Grammys be grooving to the latest tune by Maroon 5, just dubbed 2004's best new artist?
- USA Today

Sigh. I found out today that the other person in my department who has pretty much the same qualifications as I do and who has gone through the same things I've been going through did in fact receive a bonus. A small one, yes, but it's still a bonus. And I'm quite certain she received the same performance rating as I did. The problem is... when something like this occurs, it does make you wonder. Like, for instance, am I really that bad a worker? Or, on the flip side, is she really that much better than I am, given that bonuses are only given to 'exceptional' workers?

I told this to a close friend tonight over drinks, and he did his best to console me. The problem is that because none of my friends have worked with me (they've seen me study, they've seen me play, but they've never seen me in a working environment), I can't quite bring myself to believe them when they say that it's more likely a problem with my boss rather than with me. After all, among other things, my colleague did tell my boss that she wasn't happy with the insane hours that she's had to work and that she wouldn't be able to tolerate it if it happens again. But maybe it's wishful thinking on my part, to want to believe that perhaps her voicing of her unhappiness of the work situation may have played a significant role in her receiving a bonus when I didn't.

I'm a very insecure person. It's very easy to get me to undermine myself. On the whole, I seem cheerful and happy and optimistic - and I am - but when things like this happen, I do start to doubt myself. On any normal day, even without work stressing me out, I can't help but wonder why I'm still single if I'm really all that I think I am. Most of the time, I think that I'm being arrogant in even thinking that I'm smart and pretty and overall, not that bad a catch. And to make up for it, I become extremely self-deprecating, to the point that I honestly don't believe I'm anything special.

My friend said that I needn't worry. "You're not ugly, and you're not dumb... which means you're pretty and smart," he told me earlier tonight. The thing is... I've been hanging out with prettier and smarter people my whole life. And if everything is relative, I trust you see why my opinion of myself is what it is.

Long story short, I'm really gutted. I don't quite know what I'm supposed to think or feel. Am I really that poor a worker? Or does my boss really have some sort of problem with me? Am I that blind or that naive?

Hernan Cattaneo is a f***ing good DJ. I had a fantastic time last night although this could have been due in part to the fact that I ran into some people who I was pleasantly surprised to see.

Hailing from Argentina, and one of Latin America's most prestigious DJs, I wasn't sure what to expect from Paul Oakenfold's protege. I'd heard good things about Hernan, no doubt, but having experienced first-hand the sheer cheesiness of Oakie's sets, there was always going to be room for reasonable doubt.

And man, did he dispel them. From the moment I got there, he was playing some good dark progressive house. Along the way, he played some almost-but-not-quite trance (aka progressive house) and although I can't remember for the life of me how he ended his set, I just knew that his music was always making me want to shake my booty for all that it's worth.

Bring on the Pixie!

Happy Year of the Rooster! Gong Xi Fa Cai and Wan Shi Ru Yi!

Review of an episode of CSI on mail order brides taken from Television Without Pity:

This is about the point where Sara follows in a fine CSI tradition of crossing the line and getting personal with, "So what happened? The Russian agency denied your appliance for another wife? Or you just lost your taste for white meat? Too...tough." Catherine is gaping. Melton recovers first and shoots back, "Lady, I am not going to feel bad about my decision. I dated American women like you. They don't want to be anyone's wife or mother. You mention the word 'domestic,' they're done with you. It's nice to be needed." Or, as our translators found after they ran this monologue through the de-rationalization filter: "I am secretly ashamed of the fact that I have to coerce women from economically disadvantaged backgrounds into sex-for-security transactions. I dated American women, but I was threatened by the idea that they had access to independent means for economic security and personal selfhood, so I thought it was easier to blame an entire nation of women on my dissatisfaction than it was to work on addressing my own gaping character flaws. And when I made it clear that my fragile ego needed constant massage via the idea of a woman who lived to serve me and act as the repository of my seed, these same women sensibly fled. It's nice to be able to prey on women who don't have the same options you American women do."

Substitute "Singaporean" for "American" here and you'll have my impression of local men down pat. Bless you, CSI TWoP reviewer. I would never have been able to put it as eloquently as you did.

Joke of the Day - International Pun Contest
Thanks to TooMuchSexy.org

1. A vulture boards an airplane, carrying two dead raccoons. The stewardess looks at him and says, “I’m sorry, sir, only one carrion allowed per passenger.”
2. Two fish swim into a concrete wall. The one turns to the other and says, “Dam!”
3. Two Eskimos sitting in a kayak were chilly, so they lit a fire in the craft. Unsurprisingly it sank, proving once again that you can’t have your kayak and heat it too.
4. Two hydrogen atoms meet. One says “I’ve lost my electron.” The other says “Are you sure?” The first replies “Yes, I’m positive.”
5. Did you hear about the Buddhist who refused Novocain during a root canal? His goal: transcend dental medication.
6. A group of chess enthusiasts checked into a hotel and were standing in the lobby discussing their recent tournament victories. After about an hour, the manager came out of the office and asked them to disperse. “But why?” they asked, as they moved off. “Because”, he said, “I can’t stand chess-nuts boasting in an open foyer.”
7. A woman has twins and gives them up for adoption. One of them goes to a family in Egypt and is named “Ahmal.” The other goes to a family in Spain; they name him “Juan.” Years later, Juan sends a picture of himself to his birth mother. Upon receiving the picture, she tells her husband that she wishes she also had a picture of Ahmal. Her husband responds, “They’re twins! If you’ve seen Juan, you’ve seen Ahmal.”
8. These friars were behind on their belfry payments, so they opened up a small florist shop to raise funds. Since everyone liked to buy flowers from the men of God, a rival florist across town thought the competition was unfair. He asked the good fathers to close down, but they would not. He went back and begged the friars to close. They ignored him. So, the rival florist hired Hugh MacTaggart, the roughest and most vicious thug in town to “persuade” them to close. Hugh beat up the friars and trashed their store, saying he’d be back if they didn’t close up shop. Terrified, they did so, thereby proving that only Hugh can prevent florist friars.
9. Mahatma Gandhi, as you know, walked barefoot most of the time, which produced an impressive set of calluses on his feet. He also ate very little, which made him rather frail and with his odd diet, he suffered from bad breath. This made him a super calloused fragile mystic hexed by halitosis.
10. And finally, there was the person who sent ten different puns to his friends, with the hope that at least one of the puns would make them laugh. No pun in ten did.

You Are Independent Sexy You drive men crazy with your "playing hard to get act" Except, it's really not an act at all. You're a strong, sexy woman with her own life and interests. And makes men even more interested in you! What Kind of Sexy Are You? Take This Quiz :-) Find the Love of Your Life (and More Love Quizzes) at Your New Romance.

Argh! My brother's going to the U2 concert in London in June! Damn it! I love you, Bono!!! Why won't you come to Asia??

On another note, increased the frivolity quotient of my wardrobe by purchasing these:

Manual: Charlotte 2 handle bag by Loop NYC

I especially like the incredibly Japanese-like English phrases (like "Doughnuts! Yum!") .


Parcel: Blue Break Dance Tote by Loop NYC

While this didn't catch my eye initially, once I realised it was covered with figures of break dancing and seeing what a huge dancing fan I am, how could I not buy it?

Not nerdy, but definitely not hip.

I've fallen in love with Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own from U2's latest album, How To Dismantle An Atomic Bomb. It's a beautifully emotional song. The first time I listened to it, I felt like crying. And despite having heard it many times now, it still has the same effect on me. As this song is a reflection on Bono's relation with his deceased father, it's not hard to see why this song packs such an emotional impact.

The song starts out quietly and simply with Bono singing Tough / You think you've got the stuff, going on to tell his father, Let me take some of the punches for you tonight. Then the melody builds up into an incredible falsetto, with the Edge's mournful guitar and Bono confesses, And it's you when I look in the mirror / And it's you when I don't pick up the phone / Sometimes you can't make it on your own.

The song is packed with love, gratitude and frustration. At one point, Bono says That if we weren't so alike / You'd like me a whole lot more, an emotion I certainly sympathise with. The climax of this song comes when Bono sings You're the reason why the opera is in me. As many reviewers have pointed out, while a direct reference to the fact that Bono's father was an opera singer, it could also be taken as an allusion to the dramatic quality of the song, perhaps as a direct reflection of Bono's relationship with his father.

It's a well-known fact that one of my favourite songs ever is With or Without You, which, to me, perfectly embodies the anger and frustration you feel when dealing with an impossible significant other. In the same vein, Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own is the sweet melancholy you feel after everything's over and the helpless pent-up anger that goes along with it.

Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own
U2

Tough, you think you've got the stuff
You're telling me and anyone
You're hard enough

You don't have to put up a fight
You don't have to always be right
Let me take some of the punches
For you tonight

Listen to me now
I need to let you know
You don't have to go it alone

And it's you when I look in the mirror
And it's you when I don't pick up the phone
Sometimes you can't make it on your own

We fight all the time
You and I...that's alright
We're the same soul
I don't need...I don't need to hear you say
That if we weren't so alike
You'd like me a whole lot more

Listen to me now
I need to let you know
You don't have to go it alone

And it's you when I look in the mirror
And it's you when I don't pick up the phone
Sometimes you can't make it on your own

I know that we don't talk
I'm sick of it all
Can - you - hear - me - when - I -
Sing, you're the reason I sing
You're the reason why the opera is in me...

Where are we now?
I've got to let you know
A house still doesn't make a home
Don't leave me here alone...

And it's you when I look in the mirror
And it's you that makes it hard to let go
Sometimes you can't make it on your own
Sometimes you can't make it
The best you can do is to fake it
Sometimes you can't make it on your own

I decided against spending a small fortune on a dress which I most likely would not end up wearing for at least a year. So, I celebrate my saving S$244.30 by purchasing a couple of impractical, quirky, frivolous bags from Loop NYC. In my defence, one of them was a purchase on a friend's behalf, while the other may end up as a gift.

The girl who runs the stall selling the bags also sells her bags on her web site: Trufflebags. As the staff are rather friendly and because the stall is conveniently located right beneath my office, I'll probably go back time and again until it packs up this weekend to look at the two bags I've got my eyes on.