monoceros blogsI've just learned that one of my little cousins is autistic, in addition to being epileptic. It was already heartbreaking when the family received news that he was suffering from fits, and autism as another complication seems too much for a child and his family to bear. But my aunt and uncle have been admirably strong these past years. They love their youngest son fiercely and never think themselves as victims of fate. In fact, my aunt simply beams when she tells me how my cousin is brilliant with puzzles. He has his own gifts.
After graduation, I picked up David B.'s awfully good graphic novel, Epileptic, and I wondered if my aunt and uncle sometimes experience the same turmoil that David B.'s family did as they lived with an epileptic member. Too, it was sad when people witnessing David B.'s brother in a fit stared and gawked as if he were a freak.
I only hope that Singaporeans gradually become more accepting of people with physical or mental impairments. When I visited LK in Fremont last year and we walked into a large grocery store, I noticed that one of the cashiers was deaf. She wore a little badge which stated her condition but she worked as hard and as well as her colleagues. I thought it was terrific that she's given a chance to be part of the working world. At the movie theaters in Ann Arbor, a few of the ticket inspectors at the entrances are wheelchair-bound, but no one bats an eyelid. While Singapore has associations for the impaired, many of its members remain within the association - working only for the small workshops that the associations provide and not venturing into the heart of society. I hope this will change someday. They shouldn't have to remain on the fringes.
Confession: I watch American Idol. It's all my mom's fault. When she came to visit me, she tuned in every week, and since my desk is in the living room, I can't help but watch too, especially since it's just before House, M.D..
So the finale took place today, and yes, Carrie Underwood won, though I wouldn't have been surprised if Bo had won it instead. When I watched a random episode this season, I happened to catch Carrie singing, and I thought, not bad, this blonde. I'd never have guessed that she'd be the one to win the competition.
But the best parts of the finale were the musical performances (especially when Bo sang Sweet Home Alabama) and that terribly funny video by Paula, Randy, and Simon. I'll never get that image of Paula dancing at the control panel while Randy rapped and head-banged in the recording studio. And that Simon may piss people off, but he sure can entertain in a clever, understated manner.
Elizabeth mentioned recently that Little, Brown, her publisher, sent 1000 novel excerpts to three Starbucks cafes in Singapore. I'm not sure where exactly Starbucks displays these giveaways or how they promote upcoming books and music, but I suppose if Starbucks is your favorite haunt, and you're in Singapore, look out for it.
Being the biased friend, I was very pleased when I noticed that Elizabeth's book is the top pre-ordered title for the Literature & Fiction category on Amazon.com. The movie rights were sold just last week. Very exciting.
Elizabeth will be doing a reading on the release date - June 14 - at Ann Arbor's downtown Borders store. She'll also read on June 24, Friday, at the Barnes & Noble store in Lincoln Center, New York. I'll have pictures and mini reports on both readings when the dates swing by.
As for my own halting writing career, I'm communicating with an agent, but I'm thinking also about jobs back home. Got to be practical too. Taking up a full-time job will give me less time to write, but it'll allow me to keep buying books and CDs and DVDs, three things (among a slew of others) which fuel my urge to imagine and write.
I was terribly afraid that the trailer for The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe would be the best thing of the afternoon. Aslan's roar raised hairs and the trailer certainly whetted my appetite for the December release. I better re-read C.S. Lewis' works before the movie arrives.
I'm happy to report that Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith was good (despite Lucas' requisite stomach-churning love dialogues). The film was littered with nifty references to the first trilogy - Obiwan picking up Skywalker's lightsaber and holding on to it (for Luke, of course!), the Death Star in the works, Luke's first Tatooine sunset, and the origins of Palpatine's saggy face.
I messaged my brother to say I'm now a born-again Star Wars fan, which means I need to re-watch the original trilogy. And I'm even inclined to watch Episodes I and II again, if only to figure out the machinations of the Emporer. He's a clever one, isn't he?
So what if folks say Hayden Christensen's acting is wooden? I've seen worse. And Vadar's overly dramatic "Noooo..." towards the end can be blamed on Michigan alumnus, James Earl Jones. The thing to remember is that the Star Wars films aren't the place to display one's acting talent. So all disappointing performances ought to be forgiven.
It's back to Episode V now.
Today is Wednesday. I went to see a movie, Crash, with friends at Showcase Cinemas. It's a very good film - nearly every racial insult used in the melting pot of America can be heard in it. An ensemble film set in L.A., it's got Brendan Fraser, Don Cheadle, Matt Dillon, Sandra Bullock, Ryan Philippe, among others. Everyone turned in solid performances. It's rather sad and moving, and makes you think about the relationships between human beings - how we've become isolated, and how we occasionally crash into each other merely for some contact.
After the movie, I drove home, cleared out the car, took out my six CDs from the changer, peeled off car decals, and finally unscrewed my license plate, "WHTRABT," from the white Golf. At 7:30 p.m., the new owner arrived, gave me a bank draft, took the two sets of keys from me, and drove away. I watched until I couldn't see the back of the little white rabbit anymore.
When Lin Kiat and I got married in 2003, we needed plenty of help on the day itself. I roped in my friend from junior college, Mandy, to handle reception duty at the church. My brother offered the services of his jc buddies too - a group of four guys who really helped out with the dinner at Conrad, the little choir at church, counting lanterns, directing traffic, cueing the start of the church ceremony. One fellow in particular, Alvin, made friends with Mandy at the dinner. Turned out they had friends in common. Or so he claimed when he called me after the wedding for Mandy's number.
A year later, they joined my brother's and Lin Kiat's tennis group (Mandy is very good at tennis), and she got to know the group of guys better than I ever did. And Alvin got to meet Mandy's jc classmates, some of whom are good friends of mine as well. It's amazing, this collision of social circles. Alvin is my brother's tallest friend, and Mandy is my tallest friend. They're also fans of The Lord of the Rings (they've already been to New Zealand, and I, the one who once drew Mandy maps of Middle-Earth and explained the diaspora of the Elves, have yet to go!), so for a little while, we called them The Two Towers.
Today, I got an email from Lin Kiat with a forwarded message - Alvin has proposed to Mandy! The wedding will be in April next year. This is one wedding I'm looking forward to - it gives me a warm, fuzzy feeling knowing that all three of us, my brother, Lin Kiat, and I, had a little something to do with their first meeting. Even though we were all oblivious to it that night - Lin Kiat was waiting desperately for his boss to arrive at the dinner, I had scratched my silk dress quite badly with the bracelet my mother wore at her own wedding, and my brother was sitting at the piano waiting for us to enter the ballroom so he could start playing the song he'd been practising for the past few months. In the midst of all that, two people found each other. However, Alvin began it all with a bad quip - Mandy was wearing an au dai, the Vietnamese outfit, and Alvin could only come up with, "Where's your AK 47?" She was not pleased, but they got over that quite quickly.
I put up post-it notes to remind myself about the final episode of Everybody Loves Raymond. Monday night, CBS, 9 p.m. I forgot about the special documentary before it though. But that's okay. I loved the finale. Ray had warned that it wouldn't be something huge and overly dramatic. It would be like another episode but with a sense of life carrying on - ours and theirs - even after the show ends.
Ray isn't know for articulating his emotions and in this episode, after a near brush with death and learning of his wife's, Deborah's, reaction, he uses sign language to tell her how he feels. Even Frank, his boorish father, manages to be nice to Marie for a little while. It was all very touching without being sappy.
I'm going to miss the show. I think I'll go look for some DVDs. 9 years, 210 episodes of good writing and great acting. It's often been said that each of the five actors could be stars of their own sitcoms. Putting them altogether in one was genius. The show's ratings arguably saved CBS.
Despite it all, it never seemed to have gained the kind of attention that Friends and Seinfeld enjoyed in their days. I actually prefer Everybody Loves Raymond to the two said sitcoms. I'm not saying this to be contrary; I just enjoy this show more. I like the characters a lot more - Ray's a simple, family man, Deborah struggles to run a household, Robert - Ray's brother - is a ham, Ray's parents are lovable if infuriating neighbors. I suppose I like the domestic scene, the family relations. I didn't always find the characters on Friends very sympathetic, and their New York lifestyle seemed a bit much. My brother will think I'm crazy for not liking the show, but I'm sticking to my guns. I got him the show's finale on DVD last spring; this year, I'm going to get the ELR finale DVD for myself.
I made the deal. The guy offered me a really good price. Again, as in the pots-and-pans scenario, I'm feeling a little silly about selling something I need this early in the summer. But selling the car is a typically a harder task. and I couldn't just donate the car to The Salvation Army if I failed to sell it by the end of July. So I thought I'd let it go now. Thanks for the miles and the good times.
Thanks to everyone who wrote about Milou. I still have her cage in my apartment, but I'm coping with her not being here anymore.
Lin Kiat left on Monday this week, and my mom left today. She had a great time visiting family friends in North Carolina, and when she got back, we went out shopping, eating at fancy places, and watched a movie. There were a dozen other things I wanted to do with her, but we didn't have the time.
In the evening, an interested buyer came by to look at the White Rabbit. Yes, it's for sale. Lin Kiat put up an ad for the car when he was here. It's really time to cut my ties.
After helping LK check in three pieces of luggage, all filled to the max, I got home and fell asleep. I woke up to an empty apartment, very alone, and perhaps, for the first time, very lonely. I made a late dinner of guacamole and pasta. Sat on a small black chair and ate off my old TV table. Next to a vase holding a cherry branch, a gift from my friend, Michelle. I can't even remember what I watched on TV.
For Milou
2004-2005
"They are gone. They are gone to feed the roses. Elegant and curled
Is the blossom. Fragrant is the blossom. I know. But I do not approve.
More precious was the light in your eyes than all the roses in the world."
~ from Dirge Without Music by Edna St. Vincent Millay
Lin Kiat and I went to watch Kingdom of Heaven the day he arrived in Ann Arbor. First blockbuster of the summer, and a Ridley Scott film.
By the end of the film, I wasn't sure how I felt about it. Neutral, I suppose. I was rooting for both Christians and Muslims to win and both to lose. For all the stunning battle scenes, the film seemd like it bore an anti-war message. Both kings wanted to avoid war, and for good reason. If anything, the film made me think about the desires, often cruel and selfish, of man; and power that often falls into the wrong hands. All very sad.
The saddest part was when King Baldwin, played by the brilliant Edward Norton, died. Baldwin is a leper and hid the effects behind gloves and silver masks. Beneath his deteriorating body is a gentle, soft-spoken soul though. Wise, noble, quite magnificent. When he died, I lamented the loss of his presence in the story. More Baldwin. I could have done with less Balian, frankly. Baldwin left more of an impression on me than Balian. Even with a mask, Norton really made the role true to life. The piece of music that played during the king's funeral - "Vide Cor Meum," which is actually from the movie, Hannibal. And though the score for that movie is composed by Hans Zimmer, "Vide Cor Muem" is actually written by Patrick Cassidy.
Great costumes, authentic and detailed sets (I want the set designer for King Baldwin's study to do mine!). But the film seemed poorly edited. I guess I'll wait for the director's cut on DVD. It's rumored to be an hour longer than the theater version.
It's been a long time since I wrote about video games, and now that I can start playing video games again, I can think about them without feeling guilty. Pity I can't play yet though. The Sims 2 is back in Singapore and the next Lara Croft won't be out till next year, probably.
But there's a very fun trailer. Go see it here. Turn up the speakers.
We had a birthday party for Frank, Andre (the composer who wrote a tango for Noella), and Amber, a piano major. Potluck party, as usual, so I thought of preparing Spanish rice with mushrooms.
Unfortunately, I couldn't make the dish because a few folks came over and bought my set of pots and pans. After they left my apartment, I went into despair. It began with frustration about not being able to cook, and then it became anger at my own stupidity for selling my pots and pans this early when I still have the better part of the summer to go.
I had to go over to Peiming's place to cook the rice. I did get over my self-loathing to enjoy the party. It was Noella's last evening in Ann Arbor so we chatted quite a bit, the two of us sitting in an armchair. Plenty of picture-taking followed. The night went on, and we got Frank to try on his present from Peiming, a spiffy pair of jeans from Express that were a size too big. I suppose it was rather funny that the three of us - Noella, Peiming, and I - were fussing and giving our comments, basically behaving like three stylists. I finally gave in to fatigue and begged leave of the dwindling crowd.
I went home and had a fitful sleep.
I've got a bunch of entries in drafts right now, and I should work on those, but I had to write first about my futon, which I sold yesterday and watched depart from my home today. It's been ten minutes since the futon left the apartment, and the literal and psychological void is vast. I can do cartwheels in the living room now, if I wanted. If I could. I should be happy that it's sold and taken care of, but I can still remember clearly the hours I spent putting it together by myself. It was the night of the first Mark Webster reading in 2003, and I skipped the post-reading party because I was excited to work on the futon immediately. Perhaps it's the indication of the two years that have passed and the changes that bugs me. It's the same feeling I had when I looked at my empty desk during my last few days at Cambridge University Press. The space is waiting to be filled again, but not by me.
This is good. The movie better be good.
I've been busy packing my books and selling furniture. I have more books than I thought. Not good.
Other on-going events - potluck dinners and late-night conversations. This was the last gathering for the cooking group. There were five of us, including Jake as a special guest. Lim Jia, Noella, Peiming, and me. We talked about the food and also the upcoming weddings - Peiming's and Noella's. Someone else will be doing the cooking then.