Yay! My Threadless order has been shipped. I can't wait!

And my friend isn't visiting Singapore any more. A David Tao concert got in the way. Looks like my hot guy count for April just dropped by 50%. Darn it!

My mum bought some tissue off one of those people who sells tissue packets at hawker centres. When I took a closer look at the packs, I couldn't stop laughing. I couldn't get a clear picture, but from the top, the packets read "Animal Story", "Motive, Inc." and "Planet of the Dog."

In the distance, I can hear a lawsuit pending.

Ha ha ha!

Star Wars: The Empire Brokeback

A special Valentine's Day treat: presenting, "Star Wars: The Empire Brokeback". The greatest love story never told. A parody of the "Brokeback Mountain" trailer, starring C-3PO and R2-D2. Enjoy.

Ha ha ha ha ha!

I went to the Annual General Meeting of my university alumni association over the weekend. I've been trying to meet more people working in my industry after having had a discussion with one of my senior managers who told me that one of the goals I should set for myself for any year, regardless of whether it's personal or professional, should be to build up my network.

Now I abhor the idea of networking. To me, it smacks of hypocrisy, like you're not really interested in making a friend of the person, but rather, you want to know how that person can be of use to you. I'm starting to moderate my tone a bit, however, in that as long as that's not your main purpose in getting to know people, then fine, then expanding your social circle isn't all that bad. And I acknowledge that knowing people who work in your industry helps a lot. I didn't realise it at the time, but it turned out that my regional boss spoke to a couple of people he knew in my field to find out more about the kind of employee I was before he made the decision to hire me.

So there you have it. I'm turning more and more into a corporate drone.

On the plus side, I got back in touch with an old friend, a friend with the same name as T., and who, in a way, played a part in my getting together with him. Long story short, my friend had asked me to attend the alumni association AGM last year but I ended up working late that night so I SMS'd him that I wouldn't be able to make it but would he want to go out for drinks after. And yes, you guessed it, I accidentally sent it to T. who hadn't heard from me after the first time we met at Zouk. And the rest, as they say, is history.

I'm quite looking forward to next month. No, not because of the public holiday, but because two guys I like ought to be in Singapore. One will be returning after having been away for far too long on a business trip, while another (to be confirmed) will be a former colleague who I've liked since the day we met during a regional training session years ago. He's one of the few people I was close to during the training session, and even now, he still thinks I'm a cool girl, the same way I think he's a funny guy.

I guess it's a good thing we both worked in different countries, otherwise, our relationship would probably never have progressed to the stage which it's at now. Still, I do wonder what would have happened if we worked in the same branch. Probably nothing good, given that I've been in a similar situation before, and it didn't work out favourably. Needless to say, I won't say anything to him about my sort-of crush given that he'll be returning to his own country and I'll still be here.

However, while he is here, I'm looking forward to taking him out partying, especially to km8, where there's plenty of potential for fun and mischief. The sad thing is that he's coming during the weekend in which I'll be seeing a fair number of shows at the Singapore International Film Festival.

Meanwhile, the guy who makes me all gushy has some issues to sort out, I suspect. I don't know all that much about his relationship history (I'm not that nosy), but from what I've gathered, he's still sorting things out with his last girlfriend. He's over it, but she's still smarting and he doesn't seem to want to get involved with any other Singaporean female as a consequence. I've been friendly and teasing all this while, but I'm thinking, I better make a move soon before I end up in the Friend Zone!

Because I'm not doing the CFA Level II examination this year (because I've recently moved into a new job) and because my whole team was out of the office today, I spent the day surfing the Internet trying to find out more about another professional qualification I'd been thinking about taking - the FRM qualification.

Unfortunately, because it's not as well-known as the CFA, that means that access to cheaper sources of notes (*ahem*) will be a lot harder to obtain. I was rather relieved when I decided that I wouldn't do the CFA Level II examination this year because that meant that I could have some semblance of a life for the first half of this year, rather than plunge right back into the mugging fray so soon after having recovered from the CFA Level I study-fest, but now, I'm finding myself a little bored and wanting to ensure that I do something productive career-wise this year.

And I guess one of the good things is that because the FRM syllabus is very similar to the CFA Level II syllabus, in the event that I end up taking this exam and passing, then I know I'll be in relatively good shape for the CFA exam in 2007.

Then I find out from looking at various discussions that there's another qualification - the PRM qualification, awarded by PRMIA, a group of professionals who broke away from GARP, the body which awards the FRM.

At this point, it gets rather confusing, because I'm not quite the kind of person who goes around collecting awards and certifications for the heck of it (I used to be, but I'm slowly getting out of the habit) and after the struggle with studying for my CFA Level I exam last year, I really don't want to have to study any more than I have to. So I figure, this year, I'll do the FRM, and once I get my CFA charter, than I'll do the PRM, if I still feel that my work experience isn't sufficient to get me to where I want to go. This is probably the best path given that the CFA charter entitles you to two exemptions from the PRM programme.

Yes, I know, I'm not happy when I have to study, and when I don't have to, I'm bored. I'm a masochist. So sue me.

Related links:
FRM Exam Blog
Comparison of GARP and PRMIA

This postcard on PostSecret got to me. I sometimes wonder if that special someone is out there, and whether he knows he's supposed to come for me.


Fortunately, I don't find myself in that mood too often.

The Times is running a special feature on Paris, City of Lights. Although I've been to Paris at least eight times, I'm not particularly enamoured of Parisians. Having been there in all four seasons, however, I can tell you that there is definitely something magical about the city, something that makes you more romantic, more susceptible to falling in love - either with the city, the fashion, the quaint little cafes, or just a random (non-Parisian) stranger you happen to meet. "This is Paris, after all, where a kiss is never just a kiss and love conquers all," as The Times says.

The articles in the feature make for nice, short reads, covering all things to do with love, from the language, to the movies set there, to sweet memories of those lucky enough to have had a Parisian romance. There's even a Lovers' Guide to Paris available for download. And if you loved Amelie, as I did, then you'll enjoy the guide to Amelie's Paris.

Over the weekend, I managed to bust my knee after 15 minutes on the Zouk dance floor while Technasia was spinning some hard techno so much so that I had to lean on my friend for support to get out to the main road to get a cab home.

I was a little frustrated by that setback as I had been rather good to my knee during the week, wearing low-heeled shoes so that I wouldn't put undue stress on my knee (and still sometimes aching back). Zouk didn't even feature in my plans for the weekend; all I had planned for Saturday night was to catch a friend play solo at a pub, watch part of the Merseyside derby and go see a friend spin indie pop at Cafe Cosmo - all in the span of two hours. I managed to achieve all of that, fortunately, and even managed to have a good time doing all three. A little surprising when you consider that I'm most definitely not a hardcore indie pop fan. I mean, I like listening to it and all but I'm not a die-hard fan and I really don't connect with Singapore's indie pop crowd all that well.

Anyway, the friend who sent me home from Zouk subsequently sent me a text message which said, "duck I lost my keys." I was a little tired and almost responded, "I'm so sorry to hear that, lovey," before realising it was a classic case of a incorrectly predicted text. Coincidentally, this also happened to be the subject of a friend's weekend blog post.

I got some sleep and my knee was better in the morning but was still hurting. So after some gentle coercion, I went to a "proper" doctor who told me that she couldn't see what was wrong with my knee but there was obviously something wrong from my description of the pain so she's referring me to an orthopaedic consult. The price for that piece of advice was S$3.15. The price for seeing the specialist? S$80.

And people wonder why I was more willing to pay a guy to stick needles in me for S$14.

I caught Placebo at MTV Fashionably Loud yesterday. It wasn't quite the rocking concert I expected it to be, but nevertheless, I had fun. I never realised how sexy Every Me Every You was.

And this morning, I heard The Cure - Friday, I'm in Love on my way into work, and it totally made my day. I was floating on the bliss that the song gave me. Even now, I'm still happy.

I am a closet Mortal Kombat fan (and that includes loving the theme song).

That's why I think this cake is one of the most awesome cakes ever.

I caught Les Aimants at the Alliance Francaise earlier today. It's a cutely bizarre movie, kind of a combination between Agata and the storm and Love Actually. I was a little put off by the heavy-handed usage of 'fate' and 'signs' and all that jazz, but nevertheless, I found it a sweet movie. This review is a much better review than one I'd be able to write given the strangeness of the show, but still, if you get a chance to watch it, and you're in the mood for quirkiness and love, then this will definitely satisfy your needs.

Another thing I learnt is that Canadian french is very different from French french. And how. It's like two different languages.

While contemplating shirt designs for the Threadless US$10 sale ending tomorrow, I decided to ask a friend for advice without telling him what I was doing. This is how the conversation on MSN went.

Me: Do you prefer squirrels or octopuses?
Friend: As a pet?
Me (after a brief WTF? pause): No, in general.
Friend: Squirrels. Octupuses suck.
Me: Literally.
Friend: Er... why?
Me: Don't think about it if you hear weird squelching noises under your bed.
Friend: if you get me an octopus, I'll get him to help out with housekeeping.

I love how surreal my conversations with said friend get.

Sadly for me, Nuts sold out when I went down to get my credit card. Awww, NUTS!

Because of the sheer number of injuries I seem to be picking up, and the fact that I'm not healing as quickly as I'd like, I decided to follow a friend's suggestion and go to an acupuncturist to have him treat the knee I twisted two Thursdays ago. The caveat I got was that I should go if I believe in that sort of thing. Given how non-Chinese I am, that's not a great statement to make. I'm a natural skeptic about lots of things, and if you tell me that whether I get better is conditional upon how much I believe in it, then... it just ain't going to work. So what I did before I went was to read a couple of testimonials on the web so that I would go there with an open mind.

Then I called up Lee Kim Leong Acupuncture Centre (34 Lorong 23 Geylang) where I had to speak to the receptionist in Mandarin because she didn't understand English. I started to have second thoughts. Did I really want to do this? Did I really want to go to a place where I have to explain to them in Mandarin, a language I suck at, what's causing me pain?

Ah, what the heck, I'll try anything if it lets me dance without pain.

So there I was, sitting in the waiting room of the centre, staring at the long needles in the people receiving treatment, fighting down the terror that was starting to rise in me as I saw the length of the needles, and panicking slightly when I saw drops of blood on the piece of cotton the physician was using to wipe the person's skin after she removed the needles.

What the f**k had I gotten myself into? Maybe I should just leave right now, I thought.

Then another physician came out and called me into his office. I asked if I could speak English. "Of course," he replied, much to my relief. I explained that I'd twisted my knee while on the bus a week and a half ago and that while I could walk, squat and all that, my knee felt rather tight. He decided to use an ultra-quick method (faster than what they were doing outside) as my injury wasn't a serious one and proceeded to jab me first on my hand, then on my wrist and elbow. The pricking itself wasn't painful but he did something which caused an electric shock of pain to shoot through the area he was pricking. Apparently, this was his way of 'flushing' the pain out of my body. He then did the same to my stomach, knees, calves and then toes.

Yes, the pricking felt like ant bites. The shock of pain, however, was probably somewhere between a bee sting and a jellyfish sting. Yowtch.

Still, my knee felt better after he finished, and when I got home, various parts of me were starting to ache. First my hands, then my feet, then my thighs. They're all okay now, but that was most definitely a strange feeling.

My knee's beginning to feel tight again, although the pain that I used to feel whenever I moved it is gone. I'll see how I feel tomorrow before deciding on whether it's effective. And in the meantime, I hope the Zheng Gu Shui works its magic on my knee so that I don't have to go back because Western doctors really don't do anything for sprains and strains other than give you a brace and the usual RICE treatment.

And remember, the hotter it is, the closer you are to hell!
- MC Big Shug on Singapore's weather

The Heineken Green Room Session at the Harbourfront Helipad featuring DJ Premier of the Gang Starr Foundation and Big Shug was great. It was, so I was told repeatedly, a night of real hip hop. It took me a while to get into it, but I wasn't in the best of moods when I went in, so the fact that they got me dancing to my usual standard after about 45 minutes on a bad knee does speak volumes. Granted, DJ Premier drew me in by playing some rock 'n' roll tunes to illustrate how rock 'n' roll was hip hop (and apparently it is, according to the hip hop music guru I went with) with songs such as John Mellencamp - Jack & Diane, David Bowie - Let's Dance and Pink Floyd - Another Brick in the Wall. I never thought I'd hear so much arguably retro music in one week of clubbing without going to a retro party, but it was fun nonetheless. I especially loved how he turntabulised the signature bassline of Jack & Diane.

After all that rock 'n' roll, I pretty much enjoyed every track he laid down after that, though personally, I do object to being asked to "make some noise" every ten minutes or so. The floor wasn't all that danceable, given that it was hard, rough concrete which gave no energy back, but the group of hardcore hip hop fans right at the front were going hard the whole night long. Much respect to them for that.

My friend and I had the same comment on some of the hip hop songs he played. While we enjoyed tracks like Snopp Dogg - Drop It Like It's Hot (one of my favourite tunes of 2005) and Terror Squad - Lean Back, we'd have preferred to hear the older stuff. After all, we came to listen to the real hip hop mothaf*ckas, and not stuff that you'd hear played in other hip hop joints in Singapore.

One thing which surprised me was the relative lack of people, given that it was a Green Room Session and the ones I've been to are normally packed. In fact, when I arrived close to 1 am, I saw quite a few people streaming out of Harbourfront Centre. I guess this wasn't the kind of hip hop gig that they expected.

All in all, the Green Room Session was great - not too many people, not too hot (we were located at a strategic spot on the dance floor which had a good breeze), good weather, good company and good music.

Clubbers give in to guilty pleasures
February 27 2006
The Guardian

The superclub bible has been torn up. God is no longer a DJ. Clubbers jerk no more to repetitive beats. Where Ministry of Sound once ruled, the homely ethos of Guilty Pleasures is fast taking over: dance all night to unfashionable tunes you are ashamed to admit you love. Founder Sean Rowley unlocked the country's hidden passion for MOR classics by playing Oh Lori by the Alessi Brothers on his normally cutting-edge BBC London radio show. He declared it his "guilty pleasure" and was so swamped with appreciative calls it became a regular feature, a compilation album, a club and, less than two years later, a putative global phenomenon.

This year, Rowley will take the club to New York, Singapore and Sydney.

The club also has a priest who takes confessions and offers absolution in the form of vodka shots and there is an evangelical spirit to the DJs' musical mission. "It's about education," says Hall. "People's heads have been swamped with bass drums and a few squiggly bits. They expect very little from dance music." Is it a rave? Is it punk? Is it naff? "It reminds me of Coventry in 1975," grins Hall. "The only difference is there aren't any glasses being put in people's faces."

Sounds like good fun. I sure hope it doesn't go to Attica though. I despise the place and if I have to venture there to experience Guilty Pleasures, I will most definitely have to go to the confession in order to do penance.

[By the way, MOR = middle of the road i.e. popular, nostalgic music]

I attended a one-hour salsa trial workshop conducted by Caliente yesterday. It was nicely fun, and fortunately, they used nicer music than the normal salsa music. I can't really take the latin music too well, but don't mind salsa pop like Mya - Do You Only Wanna Dance. I found to my delight that I am capable of moving my hips after all. I always thought I couldn't which is why I had to drop Latin ballroom dance after a year because I wasn't making any progress.

Anyway, much to my delight, there's an upcoming event where I'll be able to combine my love of beach bars and dance with the "1st salsa social by the beach 2006" (hey, I didn't name it) that'll be at Coastes Beach Bar next month. Cool, no?

And yesterday night, at my friend's birthday party, I got to jive/rock 'n' roll, tango, salsa and merengue. It was definitely a fun St. Patrick's birthday party even if I wasn't entirely in full conformance with the theme, turning up in an olive green polo T-shirt with a Tinkerbell pin tagged on and having brought another variant of the green fairy with me.

(Apologies if this is a little rushed. My lunch is waiting and I haven't eaten anything at all today.)

What do you get when you cross a donkey with an onion?
Nine times out of ten, you get a smelly vegetable with long ears. But every once in a while, you get a truly fine piece of ass that brings tears to your eyes.

Erlend Oye's DJ set at the Esplanade for the Mosaic Music Festival marked the first time I've ever been to an MMF event, in spite of my love for jazz music. When I arrived, Sonny from Zouk was warming up and while I don't usually like his sets at Zouk though I didn't mind the set he did at ZoukOut, yesterday night's warm-up wasn't too bad. Nicely minimal. It helped that the acoustics of the room meant that the music couldn't be heard clearly, as in some of the sound was muffled. And I don't mean that in a bad way. Everything sounded rather awesome in the unusual setting... which was delightfully smoke-free and mobile-free given that there was no reception whatsoever in the venue.

And although it was a weeknight, I ended up drinking four glasses of wine. To quote my friend, and the funniest thing I heard last night too, "why are you slamming wine?" when I downed half my wine after making him finish half his beer.

It was quite amusing watching the empty dance floor fill up just as Erlend stepped up to the turntables. He looked just adorable, the tall, skinny geek that he is. My friend said he looked like Napoleon Dynamite while I opined that another friend of ours, someone I went out with, looked like Erlend, so I guess that means my friend looks like N.D.. Oh dear.

While Erlend was supposed to play an eclectic house set, to me, it felt more like the Mambo of dance music and beyond, which was all right by me. The highlight of the night came when he played Depeche Mode - Enjoy the Silence, Basement Jaxx - Jus 1 Kiss and Daft Punk - One More Time in succession. And he sang over them too, which was very cool. I love all three of those songs so I went mad, naturally.

There were definitely some weird yet funny moments, like the time he played Berlin - Take My Breath Away, which I can definitely say came out the year I was born. And yeah, it may have been a Wednesday night, but still, that went beyond even Mambo. The graphics were weird and cool as well. They showed some photos of Northern Lights (which were absolutely beautiful and I just stood there captivated) and they showed some old video footage of Ultraman vs. some giant stingray. Ah, the memories.

Erlend ended off his set at 1.30 am and came down to dance with us happy party people. I was very high by then, as nicely illustrated by my sexy dancing with a table, but I strong-armed a friend of mine who's a huge fan of Erlend and frog-marched her over to where Erlend was dancing while another friend of mine went up to him and asked him to come over and dance with the friend who was far too shy to go near him. So he came over, hugged her and danced with her for a bit and when he let her go, she had the hugest grin on her face. Heh. I'm not sure if I would have done that with the force I used if I had been sober, but at least something good came out of my drunkenness this time.

I'll be leaving to go see Erlend Oye at the Mosaic Club in a short while.

In the meantime, I'm chatting with a good friend on MSN, attempting to teach her how to do her homework for her Masters as she's doing a Masters in the field that I'm working in right now. She's got a job offer in hand after she finishes in the city that I've been wanting to work in since forever. And yes, I'm a little jealous, given that she'll be doing what I'm doing now, except at a more junior level at first. But still, she's a good friend and I'm happy for her because she wants this too.

I'm also planning my Thailand trip for a friend's pre-wedding highjinks in August, and despite the fact that Europe holds far more appeal for me for travelling, this year, I feel really happy to be home, surrounded by people I love and working in a job that I like, working with people I respect and who seem to be very supportive of my personal and professional development.

Although in spite of all my vaunted intelligence, I'm having great difficulty understanding why travelling to Ko Samui from Bangkok involves as much time as travelling from Prague to Budapest. This really is taking more effort to plan than my Eastern European backpacking trip in my final year. And for this, I'm giving up Ibiza? Heh. Just kidding.

I like how SISTIC and the Mosaic Music Festival web site both state that tickets to Erlend Øye's DJ set at the Mosaic Club tomorrow night are sold out... yet, I was still able to purchase a ticket from SISTIC's web site and collect it from one of their authorised agents. Neat!

An interview with Mad Hot Ballroom's Marilyn Agrelo by Andrea Gronvall of Movie City News:

AG: --and, let's hear it for teachers! The kids are the stars of this film, but you're also generous with the screen time you allotted these teachers, who are just as inspiring as their students.

MA: You know, honestly, if somebody said to me, there's a documentary about kids taking ballroom dancing, I'd be like, "Come on! What else? Next!" I agree with you. On a surface level-and frankly, I worry about this because I feel like it's not a movie about cute kids, and I would never waste my time with that, it doesn't interest me. But what does interest me is the beauty of these kids at this age, living in a huge city, opening up the way that they did. It's something that you're not even aware of, what these kids are capable of thinking and feeling, and once I started hearing them, the film took a completely different turn for me. It's almost like the dance competition was just a vehicle to get us from point A to point B, to give us their unfettered perspectives on life. The triumph and the defeat and all that interwoven was interesting, but even the teachers-Allison Sheniak in Tribeca who cries just at the thought of her kids turning into ladies and gentlemen-she's really beautiful to me, but I'm also aware that she has the luxury to cry about that. Yomaira uptown? She's focused on keeping these kids off the street and not having them lose interest and turn to something that's going to be really dangerous and scary.

AG: She has no time for tears.

MA: No, and she has no time for coddling. Her attitude is, "You're tired? Too bad; get up and dance!" And she wants these kids to taste victory because what they see as victory right now-potentially-is the drug dealer up the street, the only person in that neighborhood who's driving a big car. Her stakes are so high, and yes, this ballroom dancing program is not going to change the world, but it's something.

Mad Hot Ballroom was terrific. There are so many different reasons to watch it. It's a novel idea, something which hasn't been done before. The director, Marilyn Agrelo, never lets the documentary get too schmaltzy, even if it is about a bunch of 11-year-old children who come from the 'hoods. She never condescends to them or patronise them in any way.

And then of course, there's the dancing.

Ballroom features children from three public schools in New York: Tribeca's PS 150, Washington Heights' PS 115 (populated with children of Dominican immigrants) and Brooklyn's PS 112 (a school remarkably full of Asian kids). At first, the documentary focuses on the dances they're doing (part of the American Ballroom Theatre's Dancing Classrooms programme for schools), and the different teachers and principals of each school. We see the various children struggle to learn how to dance in the initial stages, although the natural flare and grace of the Dominicans shine through early on.

Then, the children are interviewed on what it's like to dance with, well, the opposite sex, with one hilarious clip of a young boy talking about how girls think they're all superior just because they can dance better. And then they start opening up further, talking about how "11-year-old girls are the prime target for kidnappers" and how one girl "want[s] a guy who doesn't sell drugs, who respects [her], and has a good education." All simple things until you realise that they come from underprivileged backgrounds, living in neighbourhoods where drunks and drug-dealers hang out.

As the competition date nears, some of the kids become more nervous and tense; they desperately want to make it to the team and represent their schools in the competition. Of course, as in all competitions, there can only be one winner, and even though the audience knows all of this in advance, it's still a little heartbreaking to see the kids put in so much effort and break down once they realise they're going home, and not to the finals. One very enduring boy, Cyrus, when told by the judge that the school only lost by three points, turns to the camera and says, "I still don't understand what we did wrong." Later on, the kids are seen philosophising about their loss, about how maybe they did everything they were told to do by their own teachers, but the judges had a different idea about how things should be done, about how if everyone had done a little better, they would have gone through and so on.

Then the film begins to focus on just one school, and it's so very clear that they're heads and shoulders above the other two schools in the documentary. There's one kid in particular, Wilson, who doesn't speak English, but is such an amazing dancer that you'd be well-advised to pay close attention any time he's on-screen. He's such a sweetie and boy, can he move those hips. He'll definitely break many hearts when he's older. To see what I mean, go to the official web site and check out "Wilson/Elsamelys competing the rumba."

The other children are great too. Their shy expressions and slightly defiant glints in their eyes melt away once the music starts. It's really quite a sight to behold.

Despite all my gushy words so far, I should make it clear that this documentary doesn't pretend that ballroom dancing saves these kids. Instead, it lets us see the effects on them: they sit up straighter, they're slowly becoming "ladies and gentlemen" as one teacher puts it, breaking into tears as she says this, and you see a certain joy in their faces that you're not sure they've experienced before given the kind of environment they've grown up in.

And more importantly, this isn't some fictional movie. It's real. And it's awesome.

Related: How did Mad Hot Ballroom survive the copyright cartel? It makes my blood boil thinking that this documentary might never have come to be just because of some assinine money-grubbing music makers.

Quote from the article: "If filmmakers have to worry about these things, documentaries will cease to be documentaries! What happens when the girls go shopping and there's music playing in the stores? We were lucky because in our movie the music wasn't identifiable, but otherwise what are we supposed to do: walk up to the store manager and say, 'Excuse me but can you turn off your radio?'"

Your red carpet match is Keira Knightley.

You don't have to be a Jane Austen character to be as feisty or sharp as your enchanting red-carpet match, Keira Knightley. You both have a unique way of doing things, and it shows in your look. A bit of a rebel, you'll make sure you don't look like every other glamour gal featured in magazines.

The wild child in you just loves the chance to get in the spotlight and strut your stuff. So whether you opt for big and bold hair, an attention-grabbing dress, or unusual jewelry, we know you'll find a way to stand out and make a statement. You go!

Who's Your Red Carpet Match?

Brought to you by Tickle

My bank in the UK sent me a new debit card which required a PIN instead of just a signature to confirm purchases some months back. This was was part of an initiative aimed at making it more difficult for people to perpetuate fraudulent purchases.

According to an article on MSNBC, however, this makes it a lot easier for people to make away with your hard-earned cash. Apparently, swiping your debit card at a merchant may result in your card number and PIN being stored on the same machine (as most merchants are unaware of the software settings which are supposed to be set so that this doesn't happen). This information allows someone to counterfeit a debit card with the information encoded on it and enables them to withdraw cash from any ATM, which is less risky than their having to go to a merchant and make a purchase in the case of stolen/counterfeit credit cards. Quite a few of the major American banks have been hit by this, including Citibank, Bank of America and Wells Fargo.

How can a stolen debit card be worse than a stolen credit card? As the article puts it,

Debit card theft can be far more severe than credit card theft for consumers. For starters, different consumer protections apply. Account holders are liable for only up to $50 of credit card fraud — but consumers can be liable for the entire balance of their bank account after debit card fraud, according to federal banking regulations. Many banks voluntarily extend credit card-style protection to debit cards, but they are not required to do so.

Moreover, debit/check/ATM card fraud means money is instantly missing from the consumer's account. That can lead to bounced checks and other hassles. In credit card fraud, consumers generally never lose the money and simply don't pay the bill for the fraud. Also, while most consumers have multiple credit cards, many only have one cash/debit card. If the account is suspended, they may not have access to the cash in their primary checking or savings account.

Given how prolific NETS usage is here, I wouldn't be surprised if it happens here soon.

I've been told I was 'so sexy' on Friday night. Now, if you know me in real life, you'll know that 'sexy' isn't a word that people ever use to describe me. Seriously. It's almost unnatural, because I look incredibly sweet and goody-twoshoes-like most of the time.

In any case, after a disappointing Markus Schulz set (dude, please play your own style, that worked so much better than when you started playing to the crowd), I got back home after 10 am and went to bed just under an hour later. No, I don't have any lost memories between leaving Zouk and my getting home, and let's just say I enjoyed myself and learnt how to play a new game. Suffice it to say that a friend at Zouk the next night said that I couldn't keep the smile off my face when she asked me where I had gone to.

And now for an incredibly hot house tune.

Starkillers - Discoteka

Deep in the diskoteka
These beats can make you wetta
I have the sex you want
I have the sex to flaunt
I rock my body hard
In this place to be
I make it hot dirty sexy
Can you please me

Available for download from Beatport.

I saw this being advertised in March's edition of Shape magazine (the local edition).
If you're wondering what it is, here're instructions on how to use it.

And the comments are great. "The use of the Urinelle could feel strange at first. Be aware that the tube will feel warm."

Ha ha!

How to become an early riser, parts I and II (via Lifehacker)

The solution was to go to bed when I’m sleepy (and only when I’m sleepy) and get up with an alarm clock at a fixed time (7 days per week). So I always get up at the same time (in my case 5am), but I go to bed at different times every night.

I go to bed when I’m too sleepy to stay up. My sleepiness test is that if I couldn’t read a book for more than a page or two without drifting off, I’m ready for bed. Most of the time when I go to bed, I’m asleep within three minutes.

If this works, this would be very good for a perpetual nocturnal creature like me. I'm not willing to test it out though. I have too many people to do and things to see... or is that the other way round?

A friend has accused me of getting all 'gushy' whenever I'm talking about this guy I like. And she's right. When he sends me an SMS, a great big silly grin appears on my face even if I'm hard at work. And when I write e-mails to her and casually mention him, she says she can sense the gushiness through the text. And the thing is, I'm not crazy in love with him or anything. We've only been out twice and we're still getting to know each other, because we're both complete strangers to each other. There is no common link between us. Yet, this has all the headiness of a first crush. And despite my determination to take things slowly because I don't know where this is leading (where I want it to go or the dreaded 'Friend Zone'), I'll admit I haven't felt this heady about someone in a while.

Yesterday, when I was telling him how proud of myself I was for managing to finish something for a deal with a new client in 24 hours, his response was, "Wow - am impressed. Not just a pretty face after all then!" And yes, you guessed it. I got all gushy. Again.

Mmmreow.

Being drunk 'a trick of the mind'
Tuesday, 7 January, 2003
BBC News

A person's memory is impaired if they believe they are drinking alcohol even when it is really water, a study has found. Researchers found those who thought they were drinking vodka had poorer memory powers than those who knew they were sober. They were also more suggestible and less reliable as eye witnesses.

"We have made people's memory worse by telling them that they were intoxicated even though they had nothing stronger than plain flat tonic water with limes," said co-researcher Maryanne Garry.

I guess I must not be that strong psychologically then.

I just spent an hour looking all over my room for my glasses only to discover my mum bundled them into the washing machine this morning when she decided to launder my bed sheet.

Now, the world seems just that bit more blurry.

Han Solo Frozen in Carbonite

Nathan Sawaya used over 10,000 Lego pieces and spent 3 months making this “Han Solo in Carbonite” masterpiece.

From TechEBlog: Top 10 Strangest Lego Creations

One of my favourite music blogs is Music For Kids Who Can't Read Good. The author regularly posts songs for downloading, not for piracy purposes, but those songs which you would have difficulty finding in music stores, or those which don't receive the recognition they are due. Some of the gems that I've obtained from his site are:

• Muse's cover of Frankie Valli's Can't Take My Eyes Off You
• Radiohead's hilarious cover of Oasis's Wonderwall
• U2 - Last Night on Earth
• Copeland's cover of Carly Simon's Coming Around Again

Another recent musical find (via T. Thanks!) is Mocca, an Indonesian indie band, who has some rather delightful neo-swing sones, such as Me and My Boyfriend and Secret Admirer (both off their first album, My Diary).

Trentemoller is coming to Zouk! 17 March!