Back from a preview screening of the wonderfully whimsical (500) Days of Summer starring the charming Joseph Gordon-Levitt as Tom, the lovelorn romantic, and utterly brilliant Zooey Deschanel as Summer, the girl who doesn't believe in love, and whom Tom falls in love with the moment he sees her.

I don't think I'm giving too much away by stating that this isn't your typical romantic comedy (or even an anti-romantic comedy). Right from the very beginning, we're told that while this is a story about boy meets girl, "this is not a love story." Instead, the movie's about the joys and heartaches of Tom and Summer's relationship, and how Tom copes with the ending. The film is, rather cleverly, does not have a linear timeline; instead, the movie hops back and forth (but not in a haphazard fashion) between day 8 and day 344, between happy moments and the unravelling of their relationship. One moment we see their first kiss, the next, the first signs of tension as Summer pulls away. While the two are "compatible like crazy", as Tom's wise teenage sister puts it, "Just because she's likes the same bizzaro crap you do doesn't mean she's your soul mate."

The movie also has a great and hip soundtrack which seems specially targeted at anyone who likes the music that was on Garden State, Juno, The O.C. and even Gossip Girl, although, in the case of the last show, perhaps at GG fans in their late twenties and older. Artists featured on the soundtrack include The Smiths, Doves and Belle and Sebastian. I mean, what more could any indie music and film fan ask for?

One of the reasons I love the movie so much is because of its realism. Yes, there are moments straight out of a Disney movie, but, all in all, the story is just so true to life. And even though it's, ultimately, a happy film, it takes a piece out of you at the same time, because who among us hasn't ever had a Summer in his or her life? And though the movie's ending is a little too cute and neat, it just underscores what the Summer effect on a person is. You're a little bruised, no longer as naive, but you're wiser, and in a few years time, grateful for what that experience taught you.

I should know; I feel as if I met my Summer this time last year, and am only now managing to shake off the bitterness. On that note, I can't wait to see (500) Days again... only maybe this time, I'll bring a date!

(500) Days of Summer will be out in the UK on September 4th.

Bargain-hunter alert! Selfridges on Oxford Street is currently selling bars of Vosges' Mo's Bacon Bar for 99p each (down from £5.99) as the current batch of bars have a best before date of July 29, 2009. This, of course, does not mean that the chocolate cannot be consumed after this date, and would explain why P. snapped up a hell of a lot of bars of them. Let's just say the ratio of the number of bars he purchased vs. the number I purchased comes up to 5:1... and I bought more than two. This right on the heels of our purchases from Montezuma's last week too.

In other retail goodness (in a sad way), New Look has acquired five of Borders' leases, including its flagship store on Oxford Street. As a result, all stock at these branches is being liquidated at 50% off or better. While P. picked up some serious books (finance, history and other intellectual subjects), I picked up two self-help books and one graphic novel compendium. I wonder what that says about me?

About a month ago, CG brought me to see possibly the best movie ever made. In return, I got us tickets to see the best worst movie ever made aka Tommy Wiseau's The Room.

I didn't quite think the movie would live up to all the hype (I've been through the full-on Rocky Horror Picture Show experience after all) but it did. So just why is it one of the best worst movies ever? Well, aside from the main character's strange Austrian-Croat accent which is never explained and which results in all of his lines being delivered in an absurd manner, the script is terrible, the cameraman worse, and the music so over-the-top cheesy that you're not quite sure whether the movie, originally billed as a drama, is taking itself seriously. This, fortunately or not, is cleared up the moment you see the director (also the scriptwriter, producer and main star of the movie, which is always a good sign) being interviewed.

My favourite part of the movie:
Mark: How was work today?
Johnny: Oh pretty good. We got a new client... at the bank. We make a lot of money.
Mark: What client?
Johnny: I can not tell you, it's confidential.
Mark: Oh come on. Why not?
Johnny: No I can't. Anyway, how is your sex life?

Talk about non sequiturs. I'm really going to have to restrain myself from using that next time I talk to friends about work!

Fortunately for me, CG enjoyed the show, and - oh glorious day! - even suggested a repeat viewing once the rest of London had gotten into this as well. And I'm sure they will. We saw Charlie Brooker at our screening, and with another four screenings planned for the rest of the year at the Prince Charles Cinema and the Barbican, I'm sure the next time I see it, there'll be plenty of spoon-tossing.

If you have no idea what I'm talking about, go see the movie. Then you'll know. And you'll be back for more too.

After catching Rossini's Il barbiere di Siviglia (The Barber of Seville) last Wednesday at the BP summer screening at Trafalgar Square last Wednesday, I am completely and utterly in love with Juan Diego Florez, the Peruvian tenor who played Count Almaviva.

First off, yes, the screening was out in the open, and all of us who were there were caught in the rain. It obviously wasn't great for people who weren't in the best of health, such as myself, just recovering from the flu, and I certainly paid the price for that the day after.

So how does one see the screens if there're umbrellas blocking your view?

That being said, the event was awesome. Not only did BP provide ponchos (although they had run out by the time I arrived at 6.45 pm) and inflatable cushions, they only sponsored the entire event so, in a word, the screening was free. 

Wet, wet, wet

And the thing with the BP screenings  is that often it's not the second-string cast that's appearing, but the full-fledged, incredibly talented star-studded cast, which, on this occasion, also included Joyce DiDonato as feisty Rosina. And you get to see the stage and the orchestra on a huge screen, much larger than you'd get to see them if you were sitting in the theatre, even if you were right in the front rows.

Fortunately, the rain stopped just before the performance begun. Yay! (Conductor Antonio Pappano introducing the performance)

To cut a long, and potentially very ignorant sounding review short, I'll just say that these were the highlights for me:

• Watching conductor Antonio Pappano work his considerable magic in interpreting the music.
• Watching Pappano's incredibly expressive face. I think I could have watched him conducting the orchestra for the next few hours rather than the opera and still have been entertained.
• Figaro's entertaining entrance. The eponymous barber, played by Pietro Spagnoli in his debut at Covent Garden, entered via the audience doors while singing his aria Largo al factotum della città, and occasionally pauses by bald members of the audience, before waving his arms indicating he can't help them.
• Being awed by Joyce DiDonato's fantastic portrayal of Rosina. Her singing was powerful and her acting was sublime. She was indeed a very spirited and feisty Rosina, even though she was wheelchair-bound the whole time! As you may have read, the great lady broke her leg during the first performance of Siviglia.
• Ferruccio Furlanetto who was hilarious as an incredibly oily Don Basilio. I swear he - as Don Basilio - was deriving some obscene amount of pleasure out of the idea of using slander to bring Almaviva down.
• And, of course, Juan Diego Florez's tour de force of a performance as the Count. His voice is incredibly powerful, and the last fifteen minutes of the opera, when he sings the "unsingable" aria Cessa di piu resistere (which is sometimes omitted from other performances of Siviglia because of its sheer difficulty), it's just... whoa. He just nailed it. This YouTube video shows just how good a singer he is. And he's so young... and unfortunately, married. I actually felt a little heartbroken when I found out!

Last weekend, we were all set to have a barbecue. Then it started looking a lot like rain, so, in the end, after I finished working out, I met up with friends at Lucky Seven, this totally awesome American-style diner which serves up great burgers. Apparently, Sally Clarke (maker of some of the best brownies in London and, possibly, ever) hangs out there with her kids, so if you don't trust my taste, surely you'd trust hers, yes?

Cheeseburger (£6.75)

Lucky Seven also serves up some of the most amazing shoestring french fries. Yum!

Lucky Seven 

127 Westbourne Park Road

London W2

Sunday marked my maiden visit to Misato. I'm not sure why I've never been there, considering that it's definitely one of the more student-friendly places I've been to, and that all of my friends have eaten there at one time or another. Maybe it was just because there are so many other restaurants I preferred to eat that are around the vicinity... or that, as a student, I preferred to cook rather than eat out, even if my university was located very near Chinatown.

In any case, if you ever find yourself in Chinatown, and you only have a tenner to spare and you're incredibly sick of Chinese food (which can happen), then I'd strongly recommend you give Misato a try. I mean, just check out the portions that were served.

Tofu steak (£4.20, I think)

Katsu-don (£6 to £7)

Teriyaki chicken (less than £5)

There was more than enough rice, and I wasn't able to finish my teriyaki chicken, instead foisting four generously-sized pieces of chicken onto P.'s plate, who himself was not able to finish the pork and egg on his katsu-don. As for the taste, I found the teriyaki sauce a little too salty after a while (which is normal for me), and quite enjoyed the egg which accompanied the katsu-don.

The entire bill came up to £20 inclusive of two glasses of iced barley tea and service. I mean, seriously, given the size of the servings, this place is a bargain. No wonder there are queues out the door every time I've walked past. Sure, Misato is pretty much a no-frills Japanese canteen, but, at that price, really, one can have no complaints.

Meanwhile, on our way to the tube station, we came across this creepy little bugger.

Apparently, it's some sculpture which was erected in April 2009 and will remain up there for ten years. It's not terribly pretty if it's meant to be a reflection of Chinese culture, and I'll bet that there are plenty of drunks who have stumbled this way late at night only to get completely freaked out.

I mean, look at it!

Another shot so that you can tell how big it is.

Misato
11 Wardour Street
London W1D 6PG
Tel: 020 7734 0808
Credit cards not accepted

I know I haven't actually been blogging much about eating, but it's just been a combination of laziness and fatigue. On that note, let this be a placeholder for:

• Kee Lung
• Lucky 7
• St. John Bread and Wine
• Misato
• Bumbles
• Caffe Vergnano

I wish I could say I'd get at least one of them up today given that I've been stricken by the flu (for the second time in two months!), but I'm not really feeling up to even one short post. Ugh.

It's crazy how badly the City can get to you sometimes. Today, every single newspaper - particularly the London publications - had a story on the suicide of a young man who appeared to have it all. There was speculation that he was very worried about losing his job and that's why he jumped.

For me, this hit very close to home, not because of what I'd been through, but because the young man in question lived in my building.

There're a lot of people out there who would go, "it's just a job, it's nothing to kill yourself over," it's way more than that to the young people working in such an intense profession. It's a lifestyle, it's how you define yourself.

It's what you are.

And you're surrounded by people who are almost exactly the same as you are: incredibly driven, and very consumed by their careers.

When I was told my position would be put 'at risk' in December, I was devastated. And, yes, I cried, and more than once. This was a job and a company which I'd given three years of my life to, and a company which, till now, I still respect and admire. And, in spite of everything I'd achieved, and the shock on the part of all of my colleagues - which, clearly, now means something i.e. I didn't suck at my job - there were times I still felt like a failure. I still feel like that every now and then, having decided to embark on a different path than the one I was previously on, and feeling very uncertain about it.

That being said, it's such a waste for someone to end their life just because that happened. I mean, I had far more reason when MD sprang his news that he wanted us to break up in January. But, obviously, I'm still here. In fact, I never even felt close to packing it all in, so to speak.

I can only assume that there were other issues here that no one knew about, whether they be internal or external.

It's so sad that things ended the way they did. It's always possible to bounce back, no matter how dark things look. Always.

Having exited the job searching arena not too long ago, I was aghast, but not completely surprised, to read that some employers out there are only willing to look at candidates who are currently employed. In other words, they’re not at all interested in those who are not working.

As one of those who has experienced redundancy once already (yay, a milestone ticked off and I’m not even 30), this didn’t sit well with me in the slightest. Yes, I understand that an employer may view someone who’s still in employment as someone who may be more qualified than someone whose position was eliminated, but I’ve found that during this economic crisis, there are a lot of incredibly talented people out there who lost their jobs through no fault of their own.

I should know. I’m one of them.

And if you think that I’m deluding myself here, I’d just like to point out that I topped my batch in Asia not too long ago, earning my transfer to London. My performance rating in the company before that was also consistently good. And while I was in London, one of those clients I covered – and one of the biggest customers of my former company – praised my work, a rare occurrence, I was later told by a managing director. And when I was told the news, my manager was genuinely shocked, having just put me on an important project for that client a few days before that.

But enough of justifying myself. There were a lot of people who took umbrage at such employers’ practices. A reader, Chris Georgandellis, responded by pointing out that most people who remain with a company are the ones who are the most politically savvy. In a later reply, he also states

On a side note, I'm searching for a spouse. Please, only women who are currently in a relationship need apply (since, if you're not already in a relationship, there must be something wrong with you).

Nice one!

Seriously though, isn’t life hard enough already? Especially if you're jobless?

I've just returned home from watching La Traviata at the Royal Opera House. I feel as if my heart's been ripped out of my chest and trampled on multiple times. It's that sad, and that beautiful. In fact, it probably explains why the first CD I popped on when I got in happened to be Radiohead - The Bends.

I'm not a natural opera fan. I'll readily admit that it was MD who got me into it, and that it was almost exactly a year ago when we went out on what was pretty much our first proper date. Ever since then, I'd been wanting to watch La Traviata, at first because MD loves it so much, and, since we broke up, just to understand why he did what he did, having had a niggling suspicion that the boy had been raised on far too much opera than is wise for such a young man.

But I digress.

Renée Fleming, the celebrated American soprano, took on the role of Violetta. I found it hard to believe that she's given the strength of her voice and the vitality she imbued all of her movements. I found her a little restrained during Act I, but, man, did she come into her own in Act II, during her scene with her lover's father, Giorgio Germont as played by a commanding Thomas Hampson. After Germont asks her to leave his son, she sang with such emotion and movement as if she was about to break down on stage utterly and completely - something I found incredibly realistic. And later on in that scene, she cries real tears and continues to sing, again, something which rather impressed me given the effect crying usually has on someone.

But when she sang "Amami, Alfredo" ("Love me, Alfredo"), my heart just broke. Desperately seeking reassurance from Alfredo (Joseph Calleja) that he loves her just before she's about to fulfill her oath to his father and leave him so that they can retain their family honour, both her voice and the orchestra swell with such emotion that I doubt there was a single dry eye in the house at that point.

As if two great principals weren't enough, Joseph Calleja played Alfredo well too. His character goes through all sorts of emotions in the play, from a tentative declaration of love, to being competely and utterly in love, to jealousy and remorse, and he captured all of them accurately. One scene in particular - when he throws his gambling chips at Violetta declaring that he has repaid his debt to her - was especially well done.

And Act III? Other than the rather odd 'final lap' a terminally ill Violetta embarks on, everything was fantastic. Tears welled up in my eyes when Violetta was reading the letter from Germont and she declared that she'd been waiting for them to come but they hadn't yet, given that she and the audience know that she only has a few hours left to live. And then, from they finally arrive, and she sings about how unfair it is that she's dying so young after suffering so much, after being so close to happiness, the tears finally fell. I could hear a lot of sniffing in the theatre at that point.

All in all, it was a wonderful performance and I'm glad I spent almost the equivalent of one of my Hervé Léger dresses on a ticket even if I did end up seeing one of the great romantic operas all by myself.

I'm truly getting into the great English summer spirit. I spent a wonderful Sunday afternoon watching the Wimbledon men's finals with two good friends, one of whom was gracious enough to put up with my newbie questions, given that I don't follow tennis. Aside from the random scatters of applause and cheers from me after a particular good exchange (I was on the side of Federer as, to put it mildly, he's not American), the match also elicited some great comments from me such as:

Me [after watching the middle linesman almost get clobbered by a serve from Roddick]: Wah lau, his job is damn jia lat.

Friend: That's Bjorn Borg.
Me: He looks like a strip club owner.
Friend: And you would know how they look like because... ?
Me: Peter Stringfellow's frequently in the papers.
I then whipped out my BlackBerry to Google Peter Stringfellow and showed his picture to my friend.
Friend: Wow, you're right. I'm never going to doubt you again.

Seriously, though, kudos to Andy Roddick for playing a great game. While he must be feeling disappointed at how close he came to winning, truth be told, he gave it his all - as did Roger Federer - and that's nothing he can fault himself for. He had a good game tactically (I learnt about body serves and 'cheap points' from the commentator and just kept going "how on earth can anyone return those?!" whenever Roddick served up an ace) and he was most definitely not the pushover many people expected him to be. As for R-Fed? Man, is he cool under pressure. I sure wish I had his composure. And even after four hours of intense tennis, the man didn't even looked tired in the slightest. Whoa!

Overall, it was a great game, and I'm glad my friend suggested we catch it because I wouldn't have bothered to do so otherwise.

Funniest moment of the match for me? When Andy Roddick was bouncing the ball, lost his grip on it and had to chase after it during the tie-break in the second set. The crowd was silent, but Boris Becker on commentary duty just went, "Oh my God." Hah!

It was more than a little strange to walk by the magazine rack of Waterstone's and see Q Magazine's cover featuring Michael Jackson. Not that there aren't many other magazines with MJ on the cover this week (Hello! and Time being two which spring to mind), but this seemed to be a feature that was done prior to his passing. I reached for the magazine and flipped to the cover story. Fair enough, the opening lines went something along the lines of "prior to kicking off his mega-tour... the king of comebacks."

Now, I'm not an MJ fan - certainly not at all on a personal level - but I did respect his musical genius. Say what you like about him, he produced some great tunes. I may be a house-head, a swing dancer and a Britpop fan most of the time, but, for me, the one song which is guaranteed to get me on the dance floor, heck even just a part of that tune, is Billie Jean, the greatest dance tune ever made. 

I'm not overly sorrowful over his death. As I said, I'm not a fan. And I don't think I could name anyone in the performing acts whose death would make me all that sad with the possible exception of Bono. But I do know some friends who were huge fans of MJ, so much so that I actually felt compelled to send them my best wishes. They've written their own tributes to MJ, and, while it's not something I share, it's something I certainly understand.