The organised chaos

Letting down

There must have been times in your life when you have felt disappointment. It could be disappointment brought on by something which you had expected to have but fell through in the end, by thoughtlessness, angry words, complete inaction and indifference, the job which you expected to get but which went to someone else instead, whatever. The thing is, disappointment is always preceded by expectations.

Are we right to have some sort of expectations in life? Or are expectations setting ourselves up for something which we might not be able to fulfill? Or rather, are we placing ourselves and our hopes on a pedestal which the people around us cannot reach?

Three times today, I was left feeling disappointed by three different people. It wasn’t so much of anger or annoyance, but just plain….well, disappointment that plans fell through and that people didn’t seem to realise how much certain things meant to me. But at the same time, I couldn’t help but feel a niggling doubt about myself, wondering if my expectations were too high or if I were less than understanding. It was a conflict of differing emotions and rational thoughts, a somewhat pointless debate but one which raged in my head for a while before I called for a time out.

Instead, I holed myself up in my house, bought a sinful dinner of Long John’s Silver since mum was out, and stayed glued to the television. I rented DVDs and watched some good ‘ol Sex and the City as well as My Best Friend’s Wedding, which is one of my all-time favourites incidentally. Memories of a certain someone came back to me, someone who had made a pact with me for us to get married at the age of 30 should both of us still be single then, just like in the movie. Only now, we have lost touch and I don’t know where he is now, or how he is. I remembered the good times we shared together, the fun and laughter that we had enjoyed together as close friends, the long conversations we used to have on the telephone. But in the end, everything fell apart and to say that I was disappointed is a huge understatement. And then I remembered the tears.

But in the end, I realised that it was a good thing we never ended up together. Because when I saw him later through the eyes of a 20-year-old, as opposed to a young JC student, it hit me then that we would never have been happy together. Maybe it was the expectation that something would happen that made it all the more difficult to live through the heartbreak.

It’s probably too hard for different people to come together and reach a compromise when it comes to expectations. But is it really that hard?

I’m not quite sure. Maybe it’s because I build up my own expectations to a level which is too high for everyone else’s taste. My favourite Christmas eve was spent stuck in a jam, in a car and I had a lot of fun then. I just wish I could relive that sort of innocence and freedom, once again.

Arts & Entertainment

Oh Darcy, Darcy, Darcy!

I must confess that I am in love.
These men. Are. Oh. So. Divine.

First, there’s Mr Darcy.

Oh, and Mr Darcy!

Kiss me, Mr Darcy!

Yes, as you can see, I am infatuated with Mr Darcy. Note that I did not say Matthew Mcfadyen, the actor who played him, although I have to say that his deep and sonorous voice does have such an overwhelming effect on my senses. It is Mr Darcy all the way for me. For who in the world could ever resist Mr Darcy, said to be the sexiest man for almost 200 years? Don’t you just love the crisp British accent spoken in that velvety deep voice?

And then, moving on to another Darcy(s) altogether.

Yes, the original Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy from the BBC miniseries, who so charmed ladies all over the world when he made that great leap into the pond in the show. Here’s the man who inspired Helen Fielding’s novel, Bridget Jones’ Diary and its sequel, who then named the upper-crust, tightly-wound character that Bridget Jones eventually fell in love with “Mark Darcy“.

If you have the DVD of Bridget Jones and the Edge of Reason, you could actually view the hilarious scene of Renee Zellweger remaining in the skin of Bridget Jones and interviewing Colin Firth the P&P actor. And oh, the scene of him fighting Hugh Grant’s Daniel Cleaver just cracks me up.

Lastly, we have the man who was overshadowed by a giant primate in his latest movie,

Ahhh….Adrien Brody. What he lacks in brawn, he makes up in soulfulness. Have you seen those electrifying eyes? When he tells Naomi Watts’ character, “It’s not about words”, my insides just melted away.

Right. Forget about Kong. I’ll go for Adrien Brody any day (isn’t that obvious?).

I think I am just a sodding romantic at heart. That’s the whole point of swooning after them, isn’t it? The whole romantic fantasy thing, with a Romantic Incident that would set you on the path of romantic greathood from henceforth. You wonder if the man you love would go to such lengths for you, if he would ever make you laugh and cry that way, if he would love you and your wobbly bits in all circumstances, if he would say “I like you very much, just the way you are”. Maybe, we are all wishing for the one big romantic kiss out in the streets, oblivious to passers-by, just like in the movies.

Aww well, it’s the sappy voice in me that’s talking. Maybe it’s Christmas. Think I will re-watch Love Actually for the nth time again.

Arts & Entertainment

Pride & Prejudice

During the decade when Napoleon was transforming Europe, Jane Austen write this novel in which the main events are that a man changes his manners and a young lady her mind.


Well, the synopsis, which is printed on the back of my battered 10-year-old book, sums up the book, really. But then again, it fails to capture the sparkling wit and sardonic humour that had made this book such an evergreen in the fickle circles of Literature.

Having had the chance to watch the 6-hour miniseries produced by BBC in 1996, I trooped on down to the cinema yesterday to watch the movie version and was pleasantly surprised by the near faithful adaptation of the book. More ahead after the jump.

Continue reading “Pride & Prejudice”

Everything Else

Music 4 Mondays (17): The one about a plea

Dear God,

As this year draws to a close, I would like to express my gratitude to You for such a year.

Thank You for granting my mother the good health that she has come to enjoy lately. Thank You for giving the sista the job that she loves and hopefully, the man of her life too. Thank You for letting the boyfriend get the job of his dreams too. Thank You for allowing my darling little nephews grow up strong, healthy and smart.

But God, You seemed to have neglected me, somewhat. Please do not misunderstand, I am not complaining. I am just wondering why it is that You have made my life quite so complicated.

When I landed the job of my dreams, I was ecstatic. And for a few months, I was contented. I liked my work, my boss was willing to teach me the ways of the industry, my colleagues were funny and friendly and best of all, I get to do what I enjoy doing and even travel around the world. At that point of time, I had nothing to complain about. I even marveled at how I could fault at nothing.

And then, You decided to let the company close. I accepted it, understanding that with every closed door, another opens and I somehow bumbled my way into the company-that-shalt-not-be-named. But it wasn’t the job I wanted and as much as I tried to mould myself into this new role, I couldn’t fit. I hated most of it but stuck with it because I knew I needed the experience and the money. I thanked You for giving me a source of income.

But now, You seem to have other plans for me. Frankly, I am quite glad to leave the place, that I finally had the guts to say what I had always wanted to say. It didn’t feel like home, and I didn’t think I could have a future there. I tried to do my job as best as I could but I guess it was evident that my heart was never in it.

I don’t understand, I can’t see the path that You have laid out for me. Are You trying to tell me something? That I am, perhaps, not as good a writer as I thought myself to be? That I am being foolish and silly to want to find a career that I could actually enjoy? That I should take a job as just a job, just something which would pay the bills?

You know that I have never lost my belief and faith in You. You are my God, his God and his, and his, and hers too. You are everyone’s God, the One whose hands we all place our hearts in, whether we are Muslims or Hindus or Christians or Buddhists. You teach us to love, to be good people, to have faith, to be merciful and forgiving, to be strong.

But God, when it comes to Hope, I think I am running a little low. Sometimes, I wonder what it is that I am doing wrong. While You seem to smoothen others’ paths, You like to make mine just that little harder, ever since I was a little girl. I know all the cliched sayings, that what doesn’t kill you can only make you stronger, time will prove everything et cetera but I am afraid I will one day fall out of this roller-coaster ride, all battered, bruised and broken.

Right now, I am looking forward to enjoying the spirit of Christmas, and to usher in a new year with all the hope and fervour that my little heart can hold. All I ask of You for the new year is to shine a light down my weary path, and let me finally build the career that never had the chance to grow.

Would You please? I’ve really been good for this past year, I even ran a marathon. Just ask my friends, my loved ones and those who read my blog.

All my love and faith,

PS To show my sincerity, here are three lovely Christmas songs:
Christmas Song by Diana Krall, from Christmas Songs
Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas by Rockapella, from Rockapella Christmas
The Christmas Song by The Raveonettes, from Music From the O.C. Mix 3: Have a Very Merry Chrismukkah

Everything Else

Skip NS, play for BBC

“!(imgcentre)!(Skip NS to play piano for BBC)”:

If you skip National Service, you get to play piano for the 1995 BBC miniseries “Pride and Prejudice“. Which is quite cool, considering how well-received this show was (Colin Firth!!).

Lucky I am a girl, no need to serve NS so it doesn’t really matter if my piano-playing skills are as adept as Lizzie Bennet’s.

[Let’s play tag! , , , ]

Everything Else

She deserved more

This afternoon, I was chatting with Ed when I teasingly asked him if he had updated his “silly” column. He laughed, said that he had and forwarded me the link. My jaw dropped wide open when I read his elegy to a friend, a dear friend who had her life stolen from her by a rare disease, a friend who had meant so much to him that a picture of them monkeying around was pinned to the wall of his cubicle at work.

He was the first person I had known who knew her as who she was offline, and not through her online persona. And as I read his eulogy, I couldn’t help but compare it with the storm that is happening here and here.

While these people were quarreling over tributes and such, he said, her friends were grieving for her. The column, chockful of memories and emotions, was his way of mourning the loss of his friend.

I agree with the boyfriend in that yes, preserving the blog and the site is a wonderful idea. Let her legacy live on. Let people who miss her have a place to go to, to remember her as how she was. But no, don’t open this to the entire blogosphere, don’t turn this into a circus where people tell people that they suck and to f-off. Let her friends, those who knew her and loved her and respected her be part of it.

As for the book, the Internet is public and open domain. Let her family members decide when and where they want to go through her entries and read about a side of her they were not quite familiar with, if they should want to. Let them decide when they want to make their peace, and not because someone is shoving a book in their faces.

Good intentions, poor execution.

As Ed says in his column, she deserved more.
Shame on all those who participated in the name-calling and mudslinging.

Arts & Entertainment

Got some Pride and Prejudice?

I am fast becoming a slave to this site.

I had spent some time trying to find ways to decorate this place, in honour of my favourite time of year. Now, after reading monoceros and dimsumdolly’s take on Pride and Prejudice, I feel inspired to talk about my own experiences with the book.

Jane Austen’s classic was my Literature text when I was 14. I remember we had a lot of fun with the book, mainly because of the sardonic wit that permeated it, thanks to the mighty pen of Austen. My friends and I used to fancy ourselves the family of Bennet, and I, of course, declared myself to be Elizabeth (if only I were as gorgeous as Keira Knightley), hoping that I was as intelligent, strong and willing to admit my mistakes as she was.

In class, we would discuss about how silly Kitty and Lydia were, and laugh over the hysterics of Mrs Bennet. And whenever Mr Collins launched into one of his long and winding speeches, we would roll our eyes. Mr Darcy was, of course, very handsome in our fantasies, even more so than Mr Bingley, even though he had appalling manners initially. But who could resist a man who changed himself in order to gain the acceptance of his love? And who was very rich, indulgent and owned a mansion to boot?

Honestly, what is there not to love about this book? It’s funny and it’s an intelligent take on many issues, ranging from the types of marriages in Austen’s time, to the bucking of social norms to first impressions to love. I re-read my battered copy of P&P recently in preparation for the movie (I do that a lot) and looking through it with the eyes and experiences of a 24-year-old, I think I enjoyed it more than I did with my limited knowledge of life 10 years ago (has it been that long?).

P&P actually sparked off my interest in Jane Austen, and I subsequently laid my hands on other beloved titles such as Emma and Sense and Sensibility. I had rather liked Gwyneth Paltrow as Emma, many moons back, though I never had the chance to catch the movie adaptation of S&S.

Now, all I need to do is to somehow find the 1995 BBC miniseries of P&P, where Colin Firth starred as Mr Darcy. Swoon, everyone, swoon. I have adored Colin Firth ever since he made his appearance in Bridget Jones’ Diary as the socially inept Mark Darcy, with that horrid sweater. I always thought it was hilarious that Bridget Jones was so crazy over Mr Darcy when he was just right in front of her. But never mind, my little cheap thrill.

Cross my fingers, I hope the movie would be a wonderful adaptation and not a bitter disappointment like Harry Potter was.

Keira Knightley and Matthew MacFayden in P&P