Yet another Coldplay/music video post. Yes! This time, it's for the incredibly cheery Life in Technicolour II which has the one of the most uplifting guitar intros that I've ever heard. Director Dougal Wilson has turned Coldplay into puppets and it's just such a treat to watch them rock out... especially when Chris Martin indulges in a spot of crowd-surfing!

During their gig at Wembley, Life in Technicolour II positively resonated throughout the stadium. I'm really glad I decided to stay on after my friends left because that was one of the many highlights of their concert.

Right now, I feel like if this song comes on when I'm in a place where I can just dance - not crazy dance - but just spin round and round and round in sheer happiness and ecstasy, I will. 

A massive thank you to Adam Buxton and his wonderful BUG for these music videos. They're quite possibly the sweetest things I've watched in quite some time. Coldplay's music video for Strawberry Swing as directed by Shynola is just so incredibly child-like and innocently cute, while Sour's video for Hibi No Neiro directed by Masashi Kawamura, Hal Kirkland, Magico Nakamura and Masayoshi Nakamura is a wonder to behold. If the latter doesn't restore your faith in humanity and make you tear from just how sweet it is, you are, as Adam Buxton put it, a heartless bastard. 

The English translation for the lyrics to Hibi No Neiro can be found here.

It's been a bit of a strange weekend, I'll admit. After the ninth date in six months with CG (if they can even be called dates, because some people define a date as having the presence of romantic intent which both parties are aware of, whereas I pretty much define them as a meeting between two people who may or may not be attracted to each other and are finding out more abou the other person), I went over to a friend's place to hang out prior to going to what promised to be a wild and debauched party.

Of course, us being the girly girls that we are, we absolutely had to discuss what happened on Friday night/Saturday morning. She's also the only one of my friends to have met CG, and she seems to think he's nice, which is always a good thing. Of course, all of my friends thought MD was nice, and look what happened there. In any case, she thought that everything seemed incredibly romantic and date-like and that there was a high possibility that he was just very English and shy, even after I pointed out that a shy boy does not take his guitar and sing for someone. He could just like his guitar (yes, he does), but... yeah. I don't know. I'm half of the opinion that he's not interested - even if he does keep hanging out, and always ending every date with a 'let me know if there're any other movies you'd like to watch' - and half of the view that he is, because... well, why would he keep hanging out? It does remind me of the time I told one of my ex-es - before we started going out - that I wouldn't mind hanging out with him even if there wasn't a movie involved, i.e. my way of telling him, yes, I like you too, so don't be afraid to ask.

My friend, being the great purveyor of advice that she is, just said: Do you like him? Yes? Then just kiss him! You'll only be embarrassed for like five seconds anyway.

Uh-huh. I don't quite think so, honey. 

Thankfully, she quickly realised the error of her ways, and concluded that, yes, it's a little difficult for me to figure it out. She also acknowledged my hesitation regarding the fact that he's just about to start work, something that scares the crap out of me even if I may just have fallen for him just that little bit more.

So, I decided to just do my best to forget about him at the party. Naturally, that meant loads of alcohol and meeting loads of people.

We arrived at just after 9.30 pm and ended up leaving close to 4 am. Mission accomplished... of sorts. After I saw my friend to her cab, I decided to walk home, partly because it was nearby, and also because I'd been trying to avoid this guy who I knew was hitting on me by excusing myself from the party on the pretext that I was just seeing my friend to her cab. It's not that he's bad-looking, but I just wasn't in the mood.

Instead, he offered to walk me back, as he also lived in the area, and, because of the incredible amount I'd drunk, found myself being bundled into the building where he lived, though not in a criminal or violent way.

After showing me his flat, he kissed me. I'll admit I kissed back, but I stopped and just said I wanted to go home. And, honestly, yes, I was thinking about CG, and it just felt a little too weird for me. I told him that we could meet up for breakfast in the morning instead of the alternative he was clearly proposing, but he kept trying to persuade me to 'enjoy ourselves here and now'. 

And, because I have an incredibly strong survival instinct even when drunk (though it doesn't always kick in as there have been times when I've been too drunk for it to work, although I think - hope! - those times are long gone), I told him firmly that I wasn't that kind of girl. He took offence, asking if I thought he was that kind of guy, and if I did, then I could leave.

So I bailed. I'm sorry, but no decent guy would ever guilt a girl into staying when she's clearly expressed a wish to leave. I may have kissed him back, but, still, I said what I said, and that should have been respected. 

I'd still give the guy a chance if he wanted to meet up when we're both sober. I don't think he's necessarily a bad person, just... European.

Given this, I guess I'm very grateful that CG's so very English. I'd take that over decadent European any day. If only there was a reliable guide to interpreting the English...

I just got back from spending the night at CG's. No, nothing happened. We just spent the evening watching a comedy show, then went back to his to catch his favourite movie of all-time, Wes Anderson's The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou, something which I'd been meaning to watch, but hadn't quite found the time or the motivation to. To accompany our movie watching was a bottle of claret which had been left over from my friend's wedding in Bordeaux, something I thought would appeal to the wine-loving CG.

I'll admit I was incredibly nervous. I was going to be going to his flat! By myself! Two of us, watching DVDs and drinking wine. Was this a date, or wasn't it? I know friends back home had the same question: have we done something that didn't involve watching movies, or was something recognisably date-like, such as having dinner without anything else attached? No, no we hadn't. That's why I'm still not sure whether he's interested in me, or just wants us to be friends.

The day before that, I'd posed that same question to a cultural anthropologist who also runs tours of London. Her answer was simple: if he's still going out with you, he's definitely interested. 

I acknowledge the logic behind that, but I still don't think it's that cut and dried here.

Anyway, enough of that. Part of me's dying to find out if he likes me the same way I like him, but the other part's just happy to have someone cool and fun to hang out with, and doesn't want to ruin that. Besides, just knowing I'm going to see him makes me happy, and, for now, that's enough.

Once the movie ended at 11 pm, I figured I'd probably have enough time to catch the last bus home, even assuming we ended up chatting and drinking for another hour. What I didn't expect was that, inspired by Seu Jorge and David Bowie, he'd pick up his guitar and start playing. And not simple songs, but ones which were a little difficult, like an instrumental by Acoustic Alchemy which I'd heard many years ago but never knew the title nor the band behind it.

I'm a sucker for musicians, I'll admit. What music-loving girl isn't?

And then, he started singing.  Not anything romantic, just songs he liked. Still, I melted... and I mentally said to him: Please do not do this. Please do not do anything which will make me like you more. Please do not do any of this if you don't feel anything for me.

If this scene had happened in a movie, and I were observing, I would have told him, "Dude, this girl wants you to make a move. Come on! Just look at her face and how she's looking at you."

And that's just it. He didn't try anything. He just played.

I ended up spending the night as, by then, I knew I was more than a little drunk and didn't quite relish the thought of getting home in that state. Now, I could have made it home as it wasn't that hard to get back, but, hey, the guy had offered his sofa-bed for me to crash on and, yes, I was still hoping that he'd do something.

When we got up the next morning - amazingly enough for me, without a hangover - we went for breakfast at a nearby cafe - my treat for the hospitality, as well as the fact that this was his last weekend of freedom before he starts his new job. 

And after that, I went home.

And that's just it. I can't tell if he's interested, or whether he's one of those shy English boys who doesn't know how to make a move on someone (for which I'm simultaneously grateful for and annoyed at) or whether I'm just a movie buddy to him. And while I can be pretty direct when it comes to these things, my relationship with CG is not something I want to mess up, whether we end up being just friends or something more.

Knowing I'm going to be seeing him makes me incredibly happy, and that's a feeling I don't want to mess up by finding out that he's not interested in that way. It may sound sad that I'd rather believe in the illusion that he likes me than find out the truth, but... yeah, I like how things are at the moment. It wouldn't be so much of an issue if there wasn't the dreaded Friend Zone to be thinking of.

And the other thing? He's starting work this week. Leaving aside the fact that he spent his last weekend of freedom with me before commencing a job he knows will kill all his time from now till 12 months later, that's just it. It'll kill all his time from now till 12 months later. And I know all too well how it is going out with someone who's at a different stage in his life, and who's moving at a different speed. And the thought of getting involved with someone like that again? Well, it makes me panic and want to run, nay, flee the scene.

I know just because it happened before doesn't mean it'll be the same with another guy. It's just a little too soon after MD to be making the same mistake though.

P., thoughtful brother that he is, decided to surprise me by getting me tickets to Massive Attack's gig at the O2 Academy in Brixton on Friday. Unfortunately for him, I managed to guess what the surprise was (comes with being a walking Time Out guide of any city I'm in), but it was still very much appreciated.

Massive Attack may not have very much new material, but, one certainly has to respect the fact that they practically invented trip hop. And even though it's been over a decade since Mezzanine was released, it's still one of the greatest albums ever produced. And, yes, I'll admit it, it's definitely the album to put on if you ever want to set the mood for... you know. *cough* I don't think there's a single person alive who can resist the onslaught that are the first four songs on the album (Angel, Risingson, Teardrop and Inertia Creeps)... The menacing, inexorable beats of each tune simply evoke a physical response from me, and I'm sure, a lot of other people. And, of course, Robert del Naja has one of the sexiest voices in the business. 

That being said, Massive Attack is most definitely not at its peak anymore... and it showed. Del Naja and Grant Marshall didn't really say too much. They aren't the showmen that, say, Bono and Chris Martin are, for sure. Not that they should be, but I do like it when the band makes an effort to interact with the audience, because the interaction and spontaneity is what makes the difference between going to a concert, and staying home to listen to an album. I'll say one thing though: del Naja doesn't really dance or even sway. He did a side-to-side trot whenever he was on stage, which made him look a little like he needed to find the nearest restroom, stat.

And their new material? Well, it didn't really grab the crowd. It certainly didn't grab me, but at least I listened respectfully, unlike the long-time fan beside me who kept complaining to his companion that he didn't come for the new songs, just their classics.

What really made my night - and that fan's night too - was the appearance of Horace Andy, the original vocalist on Angel. It was an incredible thrill listening to him sing this. It was amazing how ominous yet heartbreaking he made it sound. Just... wow.

Other guest vocalists included supporting act Martina Topley-Bird, who did a rather poor job of replacing Liz Fraser from the Cocteau Twins on Teardrop, particularly when it came to the high note which Fraser does so well, and Deborah Miller who did a wonderful job on Safe from Harm and Unfinished Sympathy, both of which originally featured the vocals of Shara Nelson. 

My one big quibble, though, has got to be that the band hasn't changed its light show at all since they performed at Meltdown last year. I get that del Naja has a political agenda and wants to put it across at each show, but, surely they could have come up with something new more than a year down the road rather than doing the commercial flights bit and having them all head or depart from Guantanamo Bay?

Yay! Polaroid isn't dead after all! It's such a relief as I repossessed an abandoned camera about a year ago but had not got around to using it just yet. The t-shirt looks really cute, but it's quite a bit more than what I tend to pay for tees, even if it is for a good cause...

Go to The Impossible Project for more details.

What a night! Coldplay with Jay-Z and Girls Aloud as supporting acts. Personally, I couldn't give a crap about Girls Aloud but the hot-blooded male in our group did, so we got to Wembley earlier than I would have preferred.

While walking there, my friend asked me who I was there to see given that I'd seen Coldplay three times already prior to tonight. And, naturally, I responded, "Jay-Z." She thought I'd be in the minority, but I was confident she'd be proven wrong. And, indeed, she was.

But before I start on Jay-Z's performance, I'll just give a recap of Girls Aloud. None of them can sing and their sound system was incredibly bad, which didn't help things.

Back to the good stuff. Jay-Z was definitely on top form. I didn't think I knew any tunes other than 99 Problems prior to tonight, but, as it turned out, I knew way more than just one, such as Hard Knock Life and the song I always hear in any hip hop night, and which some beatboxers can do the bassline to, but which I don't know the title of. I was incredibly thrilled that he ended off with Numb Encore, because, well, I'm a bit of a closet Linkin Park fan. Jay-Z most definitely got the crowd rockin'... or maybe, groovin' or bouncin' seeing as so many of us dropped into urban dancing as if it was second-nature to all of us, something I'm sure isn't expected of anyone going to see Coldplay.

You'd think having a top-notch act such as Jay-Z would mean that Coldplay wouldn't have a chance in hell of outperforming him. After all, some would consider the band to be among the blandest bands on the planet at this point in time. Well, if there was anyone in Wembley who thought that before tonight, I'm sure they've reconsidered their position following the concert. Coldplay totally owned Wembley. I don't think I've ever heard them perform better than tonight. Like U2, most of Coldplay's songs sound best when performed in a stadium, especially tunes such as Viva La Vida. Even Fix You sounded grander than it usually sounds, and that's meant in a good way. I haven't ever listened to Coldplay perform Fix You when I'm not depressed, so tonight was a tad unusual for me in that respect, and it just sounded much better, more like the promise that Chris Martin intended it to be, and less like a slightly hopeful but still depressing tune.

And Yellow. Where do I start? The song that propelled Coldplay to fame and also one of the songs I love to hear live. What with the somewhat cheesy but still incredibly fun beach balls which rained down on the crowd (I got to play with one too! Heh.) and the X-Factor additions to the sing-a-long... good stuff.

Coldplay even performed a cover of Billie Jean on a mini-stage in the middle of the crowd. No disrespect intended to the King of Pop, but Chris imbued his rendition with more paranoia than the original, something I didn't think was possible. And, yes, I thought it was wonderful.

The band ended off the night with Life in Technicolour II, which has one of the most cheerful openings I have ever heard. I loved it, as I did everything else.

Yes, I know. In my eyes, Coldplay can do no wrong. I have seen them twice in Singapore, and twice in London, and it's remarkable how much they've matured. Chris, when the band first started out, was a terrible showman, and did little to interact with the audience. Now, he's running around with unbridled enthusiasm and energy and just going nuts with the crowd. Utterly amazing, and a joy to watch.

What else can I say? I left the concert happy. And, sure, it may be temporary, but I was - and still am - truly and utterly happy. And when life is as unpredictable as it is, one takes the uncommon moments of happiness where one can.

My vacation is coming to an end much too soon. I'm exhausted just thinking about the amount of appointments and meetings I have packed into the next couple of days. It's sad that there're only 24 hours in each day to do all the things I want to do, and that the unfortunate reality is that I have far too many friends, and, in order to meet up with a decent number of them, I'm not spending that much time with my parents - if at all - this week. I guess it's good that I spent virtually every dinner with them and the weekend with them last week, but, still, I feel bad.

On another note, it has been fantastic meeting up with friends and catching up on their lives. And, I'll admit, hearing a "You look damn good!" from a guy I used to date (and who is now attached) and pretending to not notice his appreciative glance from top to toe is pretty damn good in itself too.

And on yet another note, if Singapore's retail spending/consumption numbers do not show any improvement for the month of September, I'll be absolutely gobsmacked. When I say that I have spent more than a month's salary in less than ten days back home, I may actually be underestimating the numbers somewhat! And that's pre-Charles and Keith too.

I have come down with a cold. At first, I thought it was an allergy to Singapore (okay, fine lah, just dust) but, as it turns out, it's a full-blown cold. Damn.

In any case, in an effort to strike fear into the hearts of my countrymen, I decided to proceed with meeting an old friend for lunch, while sneezing all the way.

It's always nice meeting up with old friends - in this case, my first boyfriend - and it was good to feel that we could finally talk once and for all, after not having properly talked as friends for so long. I don't mean that we've had a hostile or even unfriendly relationship prior to today. It's just that we haven't really kept in touch until fairly recently, when I wrote to him after all the events that happened at the beginning of this year, and we just ended up being a little more open than we'd been previously. And, seeing as I've moved into a different industry - an industry in which he has more expertise compared to what I was doing before - we can even talk shop now. Sort of!

In any case, after an hour of just chatting, I finally just looked him in the eye and said, "Thanks for the note you wrote earlier this year. It really meant a lot." And he, in typical gentlemanly fashion, dismissed it as just being one of those things a friend ought to do. This was followed by a question on what my plans were - to remain in London for the long-term, to return there for a few years and then come back to Singapore, or if it was still unknown.

I'll admit I'm really not the best when it comes to picking up signals (I'm either woefully blur or read way too much into things) but the timing of the question caught me off-guard just a little bit. I wondered, for a brief moment, whether it was actually possible that the deeper question was a question into whether the idea of 'us' was something to be revisited.

I dismissed it, almost instantly. We've both changed drastically and all that we had that brought us together all those years ago is just that - in the past.

Still, he and MD were the only two people I'd ever envisioned the whole white picket fence, backyard porch swing and 2.4 children concept with.

A couple of hours later, I walked past Tangs on Orchard Road and caught Michael Learns to Rock performing Sleeping Child in the store's display windows. I guess today's just a day for memories of those carefree days of yore.