Things I spent non-Monopoly money on over this past weekend

I think I remember most of the details of my purchases over the weekend, except those that I have forgotten.
My weekend began on Thursday for no other reason than the fact that I bought some stuff on that day.

- Medium-sized pasta (half fettuccini bosciola (?)/ half spaghetti bolognaise), which also includes a free slice of garlic pizza
- A bottle of Mt Franklin water
- ‘RY’ side table at Ikea, which I will be using as a telephone stand (Only $19!)
- Metal spatula
- Metal ladle
- Metal serving spoon
- Plastic tongs
- 2 plastic funnels
- Floor lamp/ reading lamp (Only $29!)
- Married with Children 2-disc DVD set (Over 3 hours of Bundy fun! Yes, Minh, you can borrow it when I’m done)
- It’s a wonderful life DVD (On sale at only $7.47 AND I saved a further 2c when it got rounded down to $7.45. I suspect that I won’t be flooded with requests to borrow this DVD)
- Rice and three dishes at Ria Sari (The Chilli chicken was so hot I was crying AND had to give my tongue a break for half an hour)
- $20 worth of somewhat-overpriced petrol at BP in Kensington

Friday, I went to K-mart and bought the following:
- 1.15 m Ironing board with iron stand
- ‘Willow’ 25 ltr bin with swinging door (white with blue trim)
- Wooden spoon and that plastic thing you use to make a cake
- Plastic spatula
- Strainer
- 4 microwave-safe containers made of recycled plastic ($1.50 for the set!)

For lunch, I can’t remember what I got. At night…
- 1 ltr Mango beer at Lowenbrau
- A plate of the Rotisserie lamb with cornbread and sides of pumpkin mash and creamed spinach
- A cup of post-mix Coke
- One packet of Allens Anticol (to help me fight this mysterious throat condition I seem to be suffering from)
- 2 hours worth of karaoke time (experience enhanced somewhat by the Allens Anticols)
- Bowl of fries with sweet chilli sauce (but no sour cream)
- China gunpowder tea (one pot, no sugar, no milk)

Saturday, I went to Coles:

- 6 white noodle bowls
- 10 kg bag of premium long grain rice (which I lugged around in the boot of my car all day and night)
- Small tub of ‘Savings’ brand peanut butter
- Table salt
- Ground black pepper
- Oregano
- Garlic steak seasoning
- Lemon juice
- 750 ml bottle of sweet chilli sauce
- Small bottle of ‘Fountain’ tomato sauce
- Reach toothbrush with rubber bristles (brilliant!)
- 2 toilet freshners
- Glade ‘Plug-in’ (Lasts up to 75 days!)
- Microwave-safe container
- 1 ltr milk (full-cream)
- 10 packets of instand noodles (including 4 packets of mie goreng)

Later that day…

- A bottle of Vanilla Coke (because I was hot and needed to cool down)

Then at night,

- 675 ml of Belgian cherry beer (not as good as German mango beer and more expensive but worth it for the novelty factor)
- A pot of mussels cooked in white wine and vegetables (‘vegetables’ being a loose term that, in this case, means celery – I don’t like celery)
- A plate of veal and garlic sausages served with mash, peas and gravy
- A pint of Heineken
- A bowl of wedges with sweet chilli sauce AND sour cream
- Earl grey tea (a pot, taken with milk and 6 sugars)

Sunday was a pretty good day.

- 750 ml bottle of fish sauce
- ABC soy sauce (manis sedang [medium sweet])
- ABC soy sauce (asin [salty])
- Small bottle of sesame oil
- 4 small microwave-safe plastic containers ($2 for the set)
- A 12-litre plastic container (to store my 10 kg bag of premium long grain rice)
- A pork roll
- Grosse Point Blank DVD (ex-rental, $12.95 – one of my favourite movies)
- Full Monty DVD (brand new, 10.95 [!] – also one of my favourite movies)

I also got this.

- Possibly the second-worse haircut I have ever had (and it was $2 more than my usual haircut too!)

Also, while carrying a 12 ltr plastic container and sporting the aforementioned second-worse haircut ever, I walked past this girl who I met a few months ago and found rather attractive. She didn’t seem to see me and upon second thoughts might not actually have been her at all, which is probably a good things since I was carrying a 12 ltr plastic container and sporting the (now twice) aforementioned second-worse haircut ever.

This was basically my weekend.

Also also, you may have noticed some recurring themes in the above items, like beer, DVDs, kitchen utensils, Asian food products and so on. The occurrence of these themes is hardly coincidental. I like themes.

Waves and radiation

A couple of nights ago I saw a delightful little Indonesian film on SBS called Ada apa dengan Cinta? Or What’s up with Love? in English. I already have it on VCD but it has no subtitles, so while I can understand the story, I miss out on the subtleties.

Watching it on SBS allowed me to play two games:
1. Let’s test my Indonesian
2. Let’s test how good the translation is

The first problem comes with the title. ‘Cinta’ means ‘love’ and also happens to be the name of the girl in it. The pun gets lost in the translation. Secondly, I only now find out the Indonesian word for ‘poetry’ sounds like the word for ‘police’ except you say it with a slight speech impediment.

At the end of the day, my Indonesian isn’t so bad, although I think I’d sound rather weird to the locals. I’ve been told my accent is fine. Just that I have the vocab of a 6-year-old.

Anyway, the movie is really cute. It’s a simple teen romance placed somewhere between A walk to remember and Dawson’s Creek, but not as syrupy as either and more fun. It’s non-pretentious, tightly scripted and has an attractive cast. Dian Sastrowardoyo (yes, a ridiculous-sounding name to any foreigners, but she’s cute as hell!) plays a spoilt and popular schoolgirl who loses a poetry competition to a mysterious boy (Nicholas Saputra) with no friends etc. And first they hate each other but then hate turns to love etc. Yeah I know it’s corny but it works well and it’s cute.

One thing though, some of the characters wear jackets in the film. It’s Jakarta! With 40 degree weather all year round! Who the hell wears jackets?! Why?!

I know it’s useless that I’m telling about this since the chances that any of you will get a chance to see this is next to nothing. But I thought I’d talk about it anyway since I enjoyed watching. A lot of Indonesian films are plain crap and/or are thinly disguised political propaganda (a broad and probably somewhat inaccurate generalisation). This film was just nice. Oh, and there’s this guy with the biggest afro I’ve ever seen! That alone is worth seeing.

__________

Last Friday I saw Michelle Branch in concert. I like her. Because she’s just this girl with a guitar singing catchy guitar-driven pop tunes. She doesn’t pretend to be some hard rocker like Avril, and she’s not boring like Delta Goodrem. But this concert disappointed me. Not that it was bad. But it was just too short and didn’t offer much more than just listening to her CD would provide. I actually enjoyed more watching her last year at Roselands shopping centre’s ‘Raindrop’ food court. There, she was just this one girl on a stool playing a guitar and singing. There was something magic there. This time around, she just becomes another stage performer. Although I gotta admit, she looks sexier than I expected.

To give some perspective of what I thought of the concert, I’d now like to grade all the concerts I’ve seen this year. I think this is more accurate than listing them in order of preference. Because I haven’t seen a real bad one, really. So they all range from Pass to High Distinction. There’s a couple more I’m gonna see soon. I’ll grade them when I see them. Oh and yes, I admit, this listing thing is just piggybacking Riss’ last post.

HD
The Bens (Enmore Theatre)

D
Jason Mraz (Metro)
Counting Crows (Enmore Theatre)

CR
The Whitlams (Metro)
Norah Jones (Opera House)
Michelle Branch (Metro)

P
The Superjesus (Metro)

I think that’s all I’ve seen this year.

To my dearest Dora

It has been many months now since you left me that comment, urging me to write more. You told me that I entertained you while you were at work. You told me how much you enjoyed reading my words.

Well that comment shot like an arrow through my chest and seeded itself in my heart. At first, it was a smile. Then the seed grew into affection and finally blossomed into love. Yes, my dear Dora, I love you. Sure you know that in your heart! You are the sails to my ship, the jangly bits to my tambourine, the garlic sauce to my chicken!

You had told me to write more. And I did. Not for myself. Not for the other people who read it. But for you, my love.

And as time passed, my love for you had seeped from my heart and into my head, dizzying me with the intoxication that is the singular focused thought of you. And from there it flowed through the neck and shoulders and down my arms, my fingers and onto my keyboard. All my thoughts and all my energy transpired onto the screen as words that are meant only for you. And you alone.

And yet you have left me. You have not returned. Why Dora? Why? And now I am all alone while my love for you still festers in every cell of my body. It’s eating me up from the inside out! Sometimes I just think of you and I cannot breathe! I’m dying! Withering like a dried up worm stuck to a picket fence. I walk the streets at night now, calling out your name in case you happen to be somewhere in my immediate vicinity. One time, someone did reply. But alas, it was not you. It was just some woman who’s name was ‘Laura’ and simply heard wrong. She was ugly. She had a horrible croaky voice. And I still suspect that she might have actually been a man.

Why couldn’t it have been you, Dora? Why won’t you come back and ease my pain? There are embers in my soul and the winds are dying. Won’t you come back to breathe it new life? Give me a renewed glow? A new life? Please?

Eternally yours,

Christian…

All under heaven

Zhang Yimou’s Hero was meant to be the Crouching Tiger beater. A bigger and bolder film, truer to the spirit of the Chinese martial arts drama.

Having defeated the three assassins on top of the emperor’s wanted list, the warrior, Nameless (Jet Li), has been granted an audience with the emperor to tell of how he achieved such a feat. The movie then unfolds as the tale is given three different treatments – Nameless’ claim, the emperor’s amended version and then Nameless’ amendments of the emperor’s amended version. Right. It’s better than it sounds but isn’t as good as I expected.

Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon was groundbreaking in that it was the first true martial arts drama to break into mainstream Western cinemas. And though a lot of cynical Asian audiences complained of it being too Westernised and/or compromised, you have to realise (and accept) that it was Ang Lee’s vision, and not just another rehash of decades of Chinese martial arts film history.

Hero, to me, is just another of Zhang Yimou’s films, which are, more often than not, slow and sparse in dialogue and movement. This may or may not be your cup of tea. But while this approach works well with a lot of his dramas (my personal favourite is Ju Dou), in a film with so much fighting, it just comes across as pretentious and even try-hardish. CTHD at least shows an awareness for its own ridiculousness and offsets this with occasional humour. Hero takes itself way too seriously (the way I felt Ang Lee did with Hulk – we’re talking about a big green guy here! Come on!).

I liked CTHD because it had a fantasy-like quality to it. It’s graceful, almost whimsical. China ends up being something like Middle Earth than any place on this Earth. No doubt the film’s Western infusion had a lot to do with this, but in my mind, it works. Hero is more artistic and stylistic, with a different colour scheme for each version of the tale. But it’s also stiffer, devoid of emotion or humanity. Bottom line, while beautiful, it’s actually not that fun to watch.

Character-wise, both films are very well acted (besides Chang Chen’s atrocious performance in CTHD) but while I could feel the unspoken tensions between the characters in CTHD, I felt that there was a lack of chemistry with the characters in Hero.

When Hero first came out, the criticism was that the film had thinly veiled pro-China propaganda as the backbone to the story, supporting a tyrant ruling with an iron fist for the greater good of ‘all under heaven’. I don’t know whether this was intentional but it sure comes across that way. The ending is overly preachy and, to me, rather cringe worthy. To be fair, CTHD’s ending was rather lame too.

On the plus side, Hero is a much more consistent film than CTHD. The film didn’t take an inexplicable (if beautifully shot) walkabout into the desert for half an hour. Also, Maggie Cheung (Flying Snow) had such a strong screen presence, despite playing a cardboard cut out character. The special effects, as well, are much more elaborate, although ultimately unnecessary because none of the action sequences in Hero comes close to having the same breathtaking effect as some CTHD scenes, such as the rooftop chase.

Overall, the two films are quite different. Hero has more of an epic scale. CTHD is more a personal story. But I did like them both although I’m sure it’s obvious which one I preferred. Watch them both though. You might disagree with me. Some people already do.

Scorecard
Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon: 4.5/5
Hero: 3/5

I wrote this great big blog entry yesterday and I was gonna post it up but then ooee asked me to wait a day so I did. But since then I don’t really feel like that anymore. So I may not post that up at all.

Last night I waited for a call for an hour before I left the house.

’I’ll call you back in ten minutes.’ He says.

Whatever. Actually I do really want to listen to what he has to tell me. But I’m not expecting much. I rarely do these days. Seems to work easier like that.

So when I get home later that night, I’m on the phone. But not to him. Someone else. It’s not a particularly pleasant conversation. But what can I do? When I get off the phone, I’m feeling anxious and agitated and so I get on the net for a bit but no one’s really on and I surf the net all day so I can’t do that. I’m in need of someone to talk to. Not about anything. Just stuff. Just a person to interact with. But instead I go to my TV and watch Star Trek. It’s an OK episode but I come in late so it finishes. Then it’s Letterman and he’s saying to Kate Hudson that she’s even more glowing and radiant than she usually is. And she says:

‘Maybe it’s my new breasts’

So after that, I’m in the bathroom, on the toilet and I’m taking a dump. And it’s a good one. It all comes up. Not runny or slurry or whatever. Just a release. Bombs away. A dumping of colossal proportions. It was a good one. I’m feeling crap. So I release that crap. Now I could sleep relaxed. Relieved. Content. I mean, why pour your heart out when you can just blow it all out of your arse?

This is a dumping to go down in the anals of history.

Now… um… what the hell, I’ll post up the other entry too.

Let’s blog!

It’s time for me to talk about stuff. So… um… yeah.

Australian Idol is craptacular
It’s one of those crappy shows that once I start watching, I can’t drag myself away. Of course, maybe I just think it’s crappy cos I didn’t try out for it this year. So here’s a call to you out there. If there’s anyone who’s interested in auditioning when next season comes around, I’ll come too!!! Serious! Anyway, back to the show. Here are a few reasons why I think it’s crap.
- The editing: they keep re-showing the same stuff over and over again. Are they trying to save on film or something?!
- The crying: Why is there so much crying on this show?! The contestants cry when they don’t make it. They cry when they do. Hell, even the judges cry! What’s with that?! Craig David Wannabe sings in Somali. The judges cry. Then they kick him out in the next couple of rounds.
- Craig David Wannabe: Yeah I know he’s got a real sad story and he’s had a hard life and all. But that doesn’t excuse him from totally letting go of his sense of an authentic original personality! He has the Craig David beanie, the Craig David beard. He sings Craig David songs. He must’ve gotten all his stuff from the Craig David showbag at the Easter Show this year!
- ‘You’re the real deal’- my arse! That’s what the judges keep telling them contestants – that they’re the ‘real deal’. Here’s the thing: Big fat guy and Meatloaf get into the second round. Come on, let’s be honest here. Who actually believes these guys have a chance in hell of winning it all? Well maybe if everybody else dies! But then they’d probably just axe the show midway in that case. Big fat guy comes in, sings, then Judge Dicko tells him he’s got sex appeal. What the hell?! Sure the guy has a nice voice but come on! He’ll never make it as a pop star on this planet! They just have to pick these guys to make the TV show interesting. Just look at them!!
- Where are the pretty boys and pretty girls? Seriously, unless the winner looks like Sophie Monk, don’t even bother planning further than the first single. Yes the first single ALWAYS sells. But then after that, let’s face it…. You don’t see record companies chasing after members of Scandal’us these days.
- Dirty old men: It’s just not good watching two middle-aged men drooling over a 16-year-old girl in a bra and fishnets. OK, you can say a 16-year-old girl is ‘pretty’ or ‘attractive’ but please leave the sex object comments until they’re at least allowed to drink.
I think I’d rather be watching Jamie’s Kitchen. Not that I’ll stop watching this, of course.

Mandy Moore is boring
I was so pleased that Mandy Moore was going to avoid going the same direction as Britney and Christina and start skimping on the clothes and pumping on the make-up. But now she looks like she’s going totally the opposite direction. More like Celine Dion kinda way. Why? Why? Why? We already have boring Delta Goodrem. Mandy’s first two albums were good clean fun disposable pop. I liked them. Now, her next album will be ‘Coverage’ - a set of covers of pop songs spanning the last 30 years or so. Well I don’t have a problem, per se, about covering other people’s songs. It’s just that if you’re gonna do it, do it properly. Make it interesting. Or make it your own. Guns and Roses made ‘Knocking on heaven’s door’ their own. Even the over-covered ‘Big yellow taxi’ became a Counting Crows song. Now I’ve only heard samples from ‘Coverage’ but from what I can tell, she just sugarcoats everything. And with a standard musical accompaniment in the background. Sugarcoated Joni Mitchell, Candy-covered Cat Stevens, Frutti Tutti Elton John. It’s like she’s at karaoke and decides to record herself while she’s singing. Sorry Mandy, I refuse to buy this CD when it comes out. Well maybe if I can burn it off someone… Mark?

Authentic what?
It annoys me when people are so hung up about eating ‘authentic food’. I wouldn’t have a clue what authentic north Indian cuisine is like. But if I like the taste, I’ll eat it! Isn’t that what’s important? The reason why I don’t like take-away Chinese food isn’t because it’s not authentic or that it’s mostly white folks that eat it. It’s because it all tastes the same and I feel like sick afterwards. Fair enough? And what does ‘authentic’ really mean anyway? Let’s take Indonesian food (the only cuisine to which I can, to some degree, discuss authenticity). You can go to Indonesian restaurants that taste pretty much like what I eat at home. Do you call that authentic? Personally, there’s no point in me going to those places. Why would I go out to eat something I can get at home? Alternately, if they taste like restaurant food you get in Indonesia, well… which restaurant? Which street peddler? There’s this place called Ria Sari in Kensington which tastes, I suppose, vaguely but yet recognisably Indonesian. But really, it tastes nothing like I’ve ever tasted at all. Some people say it’s not authentic. But it’s fabulous! The food is fantastic! It’s one of two non-franchise food places that I actually get cravings for (the other is Habibs chicken but that’s another story). Do I care if it’s ‘authentic’ or not? Well, not really. I suppose when I order gado gado and I get a plate of lettuce and carrots with peanut butter on top (like I did at an unnamed ‘Indonesian’ restaurant in Marrickville), yes it pisses me off. But as long as it’s not too far off… I’ll take whatever tastes good, thanks.