Sukiyaki Study

Have you ever read a food blog? You know, the kind where they go and eat at wherever and then they talk about the food. Sedap ke tak. Servis baik ke tak. Got a lot of cute people or not. They write it down in their blogs to a bunch of drooling followers.

I kinda like to read food blogs la. But after awhile of reading, I realised dat dey all end up sounding sumting lyk dis ;). Srsly. Hw do u expect me 2 finis reding entry lik tat?

Then I, dengan megahnye, said, Ekeleh. I can write a better food blog than that! I am, after all, Captain Obvious and Grammar Nazi all in one delectable package! I can do no wrong with the written word!

(This is where the god of words spit on me, I think).

So I pergilah makan dekat this one Jap restaurant in Tropicana City Mall, with the aim of writing - sorry, not writing, blogging - about it. That and also I was craving meat. MEAT, THOU ART THE FRUIT OF LIFE!! Delicious and tender, sweet and comforting. Thou hath no rival in the world of fruit and vegetables!!Especially not tofu.

Why go to a Jap restaurant for meat? Why, have you not had their thinly sliced beef, grilled on that...stone thing. Or chunks of it, grilled? Or dipped, for only a few moments into boiling soup??No?? Great. Then now you have me drooling for no reason goddamnit.

Went there la (forgot the name of the place). Across from Artista, which is this awesome place for music and drinks. We ordered salmon sashimi and erm, some tuna chunks with this weird bean thing that smelled like a petrol nozzle threw up, and then a spider shat on it, because it had these funny fermented tendrils that stuck on your spoon when you tried to scoop it.

Mysterious bean thing.

Delicious slices of salmon. Wonder why cooked salmon never tastes as good.

That bean thing was like the height of our adventurousness la. So for the main meal he ordered soupy udon noodles (unless it was the other one), and I ordered Sukiyaki.

The main dish. Wink wink.

The whole time I ate, this was going through my head:

The charms of Sukiyaki,
The arms of Sukiyaki.
Are all I long for since I left old Nagasaki.

Ah, that Sukiyaki. Such a tease. My own Sukiyaki was delicious. And now I malas nak cakap dah about my dinner.

The most important part of my Sukiyaki. MEAT!

Anyway. I realised not everyone can be a food blogger la. You have to be pretty rajin, I think, to write about all the places you eat. I went to that Jap place about a month ago, and baru sekarang I terasa wanna write about it. Tsktsk. Also, you just have to like food. I like food, I do. Really. But I don't like it enough to feel inspired to write about it and describe in an appetising and scrumptious manner.

So I may be aware of proper grammar and sentence structure, but that doesn't make me a food blogger. It just makes me kind of a prick about other people's grammar.

I learned a valuable lesson because of this: I am not the god of words, despite whatever delusion I was labouring under. It's a setback for my plans of eventual world domination, but nevermind. I have a scientist friend who will no doubt succeed in her plans to take over the world and I can leech off her in the future.

Freeform Independence

The other day I went and volunteered at a soup kitchen.

I know, I know what you're thinking. Sam? Really? The one who stops at nearly every (nearly because Iylia stops at every) mirror to check her hair? Who won't go out with the wrong shoes or unmatching underwear (I actually do that quite often thanks)? Feeding the homeless?

Yes. Yes I was.
I followed PERTIWI Soup Kitchen (intro-ed by this blog) on Monday night. This is what I expected:

Masses of smelly people drooling at the sight of food. Unable to control their hunger and lack of hygiene, they push and shove and fight over the bowls of soup. Raving lunatics and druggies share the same breathing space, dependant on charity for food. Sad, wasted, demented people..

Seth: You mean you expected prostitutes waving AIDS-filled syringes in the air to come trampling after you?
Me: Yes! Exactly like that!!
Seth: (Rolls eyes)

It was nothing like that. It resembled that description the way Stephenie Meyer's writing resembled Jane Austen's: basic premise is similar, but execution is completely unrecognisable.
Yes, they were homeless. And yes, they were poor. Kot. I guess. I mean, they took the free food (which came in tidy little brown baggies), so I assume they needed it. Although there was this one tourist from Pakistan or something who took a free drink before realising it was for homeless people. Technically, tourists are homeless. Except they have money. And a place to stay back in their hometown.

So these homeless people, they look like completely normal people. No beards or braids down to their knees. They obviously had baths and haircuts, and clothes that were, on the most part, clean. If they weren't lining up for the food, I wouldn't have thought they were homeless. It was not as depressing as I thought it would be, to be honest. The lady in charge, Baidah, told us that some people just choose this way of life. Some of them can't change, or don't want to. Some just never have the opportunity to escape from it once they're in it.

I can't really say what they're doing is wrong, or that their life sucks. I can't say I pity them as much as I would, say, a poverty-stricken rape victim or an old man with alzheimers. Those people have no control over what has happened to them, and not much after that either. But these homeless, to a certain extent (excluding the obviously insane and mentally or physically or age handicapped ones), do have control over their future and themselves.

But what control do any of us really have over our life anyway? No point really thinking too much about it. Just do your good deeds and hope that God is keeping score (do I get an A for effort God? Huh? Do I? Do I?). I did it out of the kindness of my heart (honest!), despite what my friends say (what my friends said:

HRHing: except that
HRHing: i bet in that moment when you were helping
HRHing: your head was screaming "Don't TOUCH ME! PLEASE DON'T ROB ME!"

Lies, O Heavenly Father. Utter lies. They should know by now that's what I think about everyone).

Tell Me It Ain't Cute

Dear Mr Fillion,

I think you're pretty awesome (in a non-fangirl way).
When you were in Buffy as the Brother who poked Xander's eye out, I remembered your creepy but righteous performance.
In Firefly, you were supercool as Captain Mal (just a side note, as I was re-watching several episodes the other day: What happened to Sean Maher? Because he is really a very really good looking man. Really. It seems a waste for such a handsome actor to fall of the face of acting. Maybe you could say hi to him for me? Maybe if you passed me his number, I could do it myself, you wouldn't have to trouble yourself...Anyway. I was just curious).
When Dr Horrible's Singalong Blog came out, I was ecstatic to find you in it - together with the amazing Neil Patrick Harris and Felicia Day (Felicia Day is awesome and funny!), despite the fact that you played a douchebag superhero (which you did very well!).
And then the Serenity movie - if you could say hi to Summer Glau as well? I would be indebted....

Anywhoo. You were in Desperate Housewives after that (WHAT WAS WRONG WITH YOU???EWWWWWWWWWWWWWW), but I forgive you (because of all of the above).

[This walk down memory lane is really just so I can talk about Castle Season 1 and 2 la. Most of you guys (I count 2 of you, including myself) don't know who awesome Mr Fillion is. So I must clarify how awesome he is.]

I've just finished watching Castle. Both seasons. And I have to say I am so relieved to have had something to watch that wasn't chock full of ridiculous CSI melodrama, and didn't take itself too seriously. THE RELIEF. was palpable. Just a good sit-down, laidback murder mystery series. With two adorable leads. Ahhhhhhhhhhh. Like a breath of fresh air. Like cold water after walking up a flight of stairs. Like, well, like stuff that is nice, refreshing and wholesome.

I was going to watch Fringe, but then I asked myself - What happens when you watch stuff like Fringe? You get sucked into it. You start thinking about (spoiler) alternate dimensions and (spoiler) time-rifts and (spoiler) cows. And then what? And then you get depressed and obsessed with the possibility of alternate dimensions and how one is brought into existence every time we are faced with choices - the choices we don't take create alternate realities to be played out in....you see what happens? Nerdout happens. Existential angst happens.

I don't need all that, man. What I need is a pet hedgehog. But if I can't have that, watching Castle is just as nice and heartwarming. Also, has lots of redheads, which I have a soft spot for.

So Mr Fillion, thanks for being so awesome, and could you please hurry up with the third season?

Thanks.
Yours Truly,
Sam.

I dare you to say this ain't cute (remember, everytime you say it, something cute dies).

The Mysterious Case of the Disappearing Nymph

The other day Greg and I stumbled upon the God of Bisexuality.

Greg and I: Whatup

God of Bisexuality: Greetings, my children!

Greg and I: Wha...???

(Question: Why do gods insist on calling everyone their children? You did not give birth to me!)

Nah, not really. This is his real story:

Hermaphroditus

The son of Hermes (like the scarf) and Aphrodite (she got around eh), Hermaphroditus was the god of bisexuality. He was minding his own business and bathing in a pool, when some psycho nymph who had been stalking him leapt into the pool and merged with him. And by merged, I do not mean have sex. I mean she physically melded into him, so that they became 'two bodies, one form'. Apparently her stalker-like devotion appealed to the generally insane greek gods (what did I tell you about holy STD?), and when she asked to 'never be parted' from him, they agreed.
This is how I see it going down:

Nymph: OOO holy gods and goddesses I hereby sacrifice this here poor virgin goat in your name please let me get sucked into Hermaphroditus and stick to him forever, like a useless excess bit but with sexual organs, much like the male anglerfish to the female! OOOO I beg thee holy gods and goddesses!!!!

*Kills goat*

Aphrodite: Yes, my child.

Nymph: Oh Holy Aphrodite! Allow me to bodymeld with your child and completely lose all sentience so that my vagina can be with him forever!

Aphrodite: My child?

Nymph: The one you had with Hermes.

Aphrodite: I had a child with...Oh. Hahaha. Well, who keeps track of these things? Heeheehee. Sure, do what you like, my dear. But give me a heads up if he's cute! Huhuhuhu.

Nymph: Thank you O Great Goddess!

A lot of people think having gods as parents would be cool, but it's actually not. As you can see from this unfortunate scenario:

Hermaphroditus, bathing harmlessly in a pool, thinking of all the dates he has lined up. Suddenly some random nymph jumps in and starts squirming against him.

Nymph: Oh, H, We will be together forever! Heeheehee.
H: Eh. Hey. Oi, wot chu think you're doing eh? I'm a bloody God, see. And you laugh like me mum. Get the Hades away from me.

She starts being absorbed into him.

H: Heyyy. Heyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy. Wot's this? What...ARGH. ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH WTFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF.

Yeah. You know what happens next.
Heeheehee.

Yeah, well. We always kind of knew that, even if you didn't, Barbie.

Dancing Slippers

Me: Hello everyone.

Everyone (in cheerful voices): Hello...Samantha.

Me: I-I'm here because I...have a confession to make.

Everyone (sympathetic gasps): OooooOh.

Me: I-I'm an...ADDICT!

Everyone (understanding gasps): AaaaaAh.

Me: I AM ADDICTED TO INTERNET SHOPPING!

Everyone (interested sounds): HemmmM.

Me: I AM ADDICTED TO BROWSING ONLINE BOUTIQUES! Everything looks so adorable! You won't find such dresses on hangers in clothestores! Not the cute vintage ones that I like! Nor the flowery tops or printed skirts! None! ONLY ON THE INTERNET!

Everyone (slightly shocked): WhoooaaAh.

Me: And the shoes! DON'T GET ME STARTED ON THE SHOES! And the bikinis!! I CAN'T GET OVER THE FACT THAT I MISSED THE LAST VS BIKINI AT A COMPLETELY RIDICULOUS PRICE BECAUSE OF - ARGHHHHHH! (keels over in frustration and hyperventilation)

Everyone: Erm.

Random person (prods me with a stick): Oi.

Me (in between deep breaths): If anything happens to me, here are the blogshops YOU MUST GO TO!!!!!!!:

http://arrogantminnie.blogspot.com/
http://whitesoot.blogspot.com/
http://blissfully-beautiful.blogspot.com/
http://www.peepboutique.com/
http://diaryofane-shopaholic.blogspot.com/
http://clothesbucket.blogspot.com/
http://shopaholicsu.blogspot.com/

ps. I did actually start writing about Castle and Nathan Fillion and other awesome things, but I saw a pair of red shoes at arrogantminnie and aarrghhhhhh.

The Castle Walls

When I was younger, I mean younger than I am now because I know I'm not that bloody old, I used to fall in love with characters in books. No kidding. That's how isolated I was. Sherlock Holmes, Walter Blythe, Adam Dalgliesh, Rupert of Hentzau. I knew in my heart one day there would be someone like that out there for me - wickedly intelligent, dreamy, poetic, strong, maybe slightly mad. Someone with whom I could discuss Hardy, or crazy theories of evolution, or our favourite X-Men while cuddling on the couch. Someone who would be so amazed by me, and me by him. Who makes me strong, and whom I can believe in. An equal.

I have yet to meet this equal, of course. Probably because he doesn't exist. I have yet to date a man who doesn't put physical beauty first, either. And I have yet to come out of a relationship like that without feeling degraded and second rate. They court me because I am pretty, but when we are finally together, there is always someone prettier, someone better or smarter. Always someone to be compared with. Maybe I am unlucky, or maybe all men are like that.

So I spend my relationship afraid that I will never be good enough. Afraid that they're just here because they're waiting for someone else. I ask my friends, Am I right to be afraid? Are these insecurities founded? Am I being too much like Angelina Jolie? I ask so many questions, hoping in some way that my friends can fix my problem. And they say the things friends say, Don’t be silly. You’re being ridiculous. Anyone would be lucky to have you. Really? I haven’t met this person yet. Or maybe I did, but I felt he wasn’t good enough for me.

And I hate feeling this way. I hate being the kind of girl who doesn't feel good enough, or pretty enough or smart enough. The one who's always wondering if he's off somewhere else with someone else, or holding me and wishing I was someone else. Every little thing bothers me, stays with me, and in my mind I pick at it like a scab, never letting it heal. It's pathetic, and I know I am so much better than that. And it is so frustrating because there’s this huge dissonance between what you think of yourself and what you think your partner thinks of you. And it’s disgusting, because as shallow as I like to pretend I am, I have never put physical beauty as number one, or two, or even seven on my list of criteria. And here I am trying to cater to someone else’s sense of ideal. Hypocrite.

When I was single, I was never like this. I never had to wonder if I was 'enough' for anyone, I felt happy, and satisfied. I was enough for me. I felt like every little thing I did was a small achievement for myself. Now I feel like I'm holding up a candle to a roaring fire. Occasionally, I feel like a fool.

But the point is, I guess (not sure I have a point), is not the relationships, but my own insecurities. I have to fix them, or I will never be happy; as long as I have them everything becomes magnified, everything becomes a portent of doom. And now that I know what it’s like to be in love, everything hurts even more.

Actually, I didn’t mean to be so emo. It’s Trinna’s fault, she linked me to some chick’s blog. I honestly just wanted to write a review on Castle Seasons 1 and 2.

Avatar: (Hopefully) The Last M. Night Movie. Ever.

Short Review (in Vit's words): Like Eclipse all over again. Except with benders instead of vampires.

Long Review:

NO SPOILER ALERT (If you insist on watching this movie after what I reveal to you, you deserve to have it spoiled)

Scene 1

Two kids, completely unrecognisable as Sokka and Katara, are looking for food. They stumble upon some bald kid and a giant horned beaver with too many legs.
They take him back to their village.
At first we think they are at the wrong village, because everyone else there looks eskimo (eskima? eskimite? inuit?). But people don't seem to be trying to cast the white devils out with fire. I suppose their "uniqueness" is the reason why Katara is the ONLY WATERBENDER IN THE WHOLE CLAN, and why they stumbled upon Aang.
White people, you know. They're lucky. And not just with the native girls.

There are several expository conversations throughout, but you won't care because the only reason they're talking is to justify their paycheck. You can still understand the story if you watched this movie on mute.

Scene 2

Bad guys (with the only actor who can act) show up. Take Aang away. Sokka and Katara go after them and save Aang with the help of the flying furry centipede.
They then end up at an Earthbender village where the people are being kept prisoner. How are they being kept prisoner? Like that lor. They are wandering around in their own village, being poked about a bit by the guards. Still, they're on dry land, innit?
EARTHbenders. On dry LAND. ALL IN ONE PLACE. And they never thought, Hey. Wtf man. I'm a gonna turn all you Firebending idiots into balls of dirt until you suffocate, die and leave my people alone forever.
It takes some bald 12 year old to tell them - 'Your power is beneath you! You don't have to be treated like this!' thus proving everyone in BendingLand are idiots and deserve to be conquered.

Scene 3
I don't remember or care much about what happened at this point. But the graphics were pretty cool.

Scene 4

They go to the Northern Water Tribe, a stronghold that has never been attacked by the Fire Nation because of the strength of their people. But because Aang is there, the Fire Nation attacks. They attack using ships.
The water people panic. They are afraid they cannot defeat the fire people, and their princess and kingdom will be slaughtered. Fortunately a dragon appears to Aang in a vision and tells him to use the power of the ocean...
.
.
.
no. shite. sherlock. I would never have thought of that. It's not like the NWT IS SURROUNDED BY OCEAN. AND THAT THE CITY IS FULL OF WATERBENDERS.

Scene 5
The princess dies in a long-drawn out scene where the guy playing General Iroh is wondering why the hell he's in this movie exchanging lines with a bunch of cardboard cutouts, but nobody cares because they're all too busy bowing to Aang, who has finally accepted his fate as the familyless, all-powerful Avatar.

I'd like to say I don't care, but I cared enough to write this review.
I care about you to help you make the right choice in life.