I’m not going to think about why I liked this movie so much that I watched it twice in one sitting, or what that says about me. Some things are best left unanalyzed.

Also, I’m not going to think about why this had my sides splitting and my eyes tearing. Some wise person said “show me what a man laughs at, and i will show you who that man is.” Since I am a woman, I shall conveniently forget anything this says about my character and just quote you. **D E A D**

A little test to see how palatable this link is to your taste buds : name a four letter word that starts with f.

If your answer was fast, food or fish, do not click the link. Seriously.

Anyone else who loved the movie, you will just LOVE this.

PS : I still say that last line killed the movie. And I still hate Angelina Jolie. That initial scene at the supermarket counter, immediately after Wesley pays for his pills – it was just soooo disturbing – and that was before she took out the big pretty gun. She was just so there! Like she was going to jump out of the film or something. It’s illegal for anyone to have so much presence.

She dominates the screen, and there were two other people [and a whole bunch of props] in it! She looked like this eerie talking head, and I kept expecting it to jump off the neck and roll onto my table. She even had me freaked out! But then again, I have a phobia for XCL shots, with or without Angelina Jolie. **shuddering**

But I did like her in one scene. That cheeky [sly?] smile she gives Wesley when he runs out of the mill is to die for. I have got to learn how to do that!!

But enough out of me. Go read.

Oh, and you need to have watched the movie [and to have my sense of humour] to nyita the link so…

I recognize the symptoms. The spinning around in the same spot, the restlessness and boredom, the feeling like flubber trapped in a fizzled out pepsi bottle just longing to explode. And if I get another cyber hug I’m going to scream!! [no offense Pinkem] It’s just another case of QLC. This stuff is getting old.

I feel like I’m drilling a hole in the ground with my constant spinning. I can see blurs of my dreams drifting past, making me even more dizzy. I can see where I want to be, but I can’t see how to get there.

Things are drip-dropping all around me, forming murky puddles to breed bugs. I’m not focusing on anything. I have no drive, no attention. I’m just drifting along, dragging my feet, wandering like a juala in the dust too weak to even follow the wind.

How I hate being in limbo.

In other news, my officemate finally got some music. Now me, being me, I live inside my headphones. So I never know what’s going on here [and consequently, find myself at work during public holidays coz I wasn’t listening to what everyone was saying. It’s kinda hard to keep track of like 25 public holidays, especially when they’re decided by the Moon!]

So here I am, inside my headphones, and wondering why there are snares inside my head when there are none on my track. So I take the phones off to find the offending source.

The music in question is pretty good music. Trouble is, she doesn’t have headphones. Keeping in mind that there’s five of us in here, it’s not the coolest idea to be booming your music of choice. Especially since 3 of the tenants are well over forty.

Being my usual surly self, i had already started daggers. How inconsiderate. Fancy forcing everyone to listen to that ! The least you could do is turn your music down and…

…then I notice that I can still hear my music. And so can everyone else. Apparently, I play my music so loud that even with my headphones on, my mates can sing every song word for word for word for word. No one has ever complained…and I’ve been living in my headphones for a looooong time…

Talk about the speaker calling the microphone loud!

I decided to blow my Idd bonus by getting princess a kiddie laptop and a wooden play set. The play set has a cake, candles, cutlery and birthday favours in a pretty pink drawer. Guess which one she likes more. Here’s a hint : it doesn’t start with l, c or k.

Then we tried our first ever subway. Not the motor, the sandwich. It was cheaper than I expected. 200 bob kenyan for a fancy sandwich and a funky AC. I’ve been seeing a lot of sub adverts on Cartoon Network, but we keep walking past the shop coz it looks, well, it looks like Java, in italian.

When I finally bit into my preeeeetty sandwich, something called a subway club, all I could taste was mayonaise. Fortunately for me, I love mayonaise. And the serviettes have a calorie count on them. Interesting.

[That Cipriani boy is sooooooo beautiful!]

Apparently, the current craze in Poland is illegal street car racing. Big boys take their big toys onto the highways at night and cause mayhem drifting, skidding and crashing. The cops can’t handle them, so they wised up. They built them a track and let them race anytime they want. Why can’t all cops think like that?!

And finally, there’s a princess in Jordan who makes films. Yes Jordan, the arabic country that Rania rules. The princess’ name is…okay, I can’t remember her name, but she’s married to Rania’s husband’s brother. And she used to work for CNN.

These people lead such interesting lives. I mean can you imagine her telling her grandkids how she spent her twenties reporting on the Iraq war, then married Rania’s brother-in-law, then retired and built the Jordanian film industry?

She’s got a programme that’s teaching film to underprivileged kids. The idea is to jumpstart their very own Jordanoliwood. [Forgive the lousy pun, it’s sunday.] Not quite what you expect from an arabic princess…

I think our school system needs to change. In other countries people do so much with their lives. They travel and get apprenticeships and hitch-hike and backpack and get summer jobs. I know at least three people who had toured the world by the time they were 20. They’re all girls, they all travel alone, and they all have uni degress.

One cleared school early, so she got on the job market faster and could fund her trips. The second worked summer jobs and backpacked round the world before settling down for her dental degree at age 22. The third apprenticed to a local TV station and jetsetted on the job. She finally got her degree at 40.

I know a guy too, he’s 30 something, and has had careers in a successful rock band [complete with world tours and groupies], a studio techie and a sound guy. He’s now settling to start a family, in the last place I’d expect !! It’s in Scandinavia, and it starts with an S.

For most of us, 22 means stuck in second year, skiving riots and conning folks for pocket money. But out there, 22 is two lifetimes. And out there, the jobs we dharau here are the ones that pay; nursing, building, teaching, that’s where the money is. Most doctors are drowned in student debt, so their careers aren’t anything like here.

I think given a choice, I’d have quit school at sixteen, trained as a mechanic, built cars till 30 then gone for a degree in languages. But when I think of it, I wouldn’t be so far from where I am now. I can speak tongues, explain how an engine works, and build innuendos from spark plugs…so I’m not doing too badly 😀

AOB

Did you know all those crazy rock chicks have really scratchy fingertips from all that guitar playing?