Moment Musicaux

Credits to Pastor Wesley and his Canon 400D.
No ‘nice’ Photoshop stuff… Dad reformatted the com. 7km! Yay for exercise! I had much fun with everyone. =) More pictures here.

Saturday

8am: Wake up
945am: Leave house
10am-2pm: Treetop walk at MacRitchie Reservoir
230-3pm: Worship practice for Sunday service
3-530pm: Care Group
6-945pm: Dinner and stuff with the Boy and his mom
945-1130pm: Movie — Hairspray!
12-1am: Home + Shower
1am: Sleep…

Sunday

8am: Wake up
9-10am: Songlead at Sunday School
10-11am: Breakfast at the market
11am-1pm: Service
1-2pm: Lunch
2-330pm: Time with the Boy
4-7pm: Accompany the Boy for soundcheck at Esplanade
745-1045pm: The Boy performs with Rosli Mansor
1130pm-1am: Home + Shower + Phonecall
1am-730am: Sleep…

I’m just glad that my pay is here. Next headache: What to get for the Boy’s birthday!?! He really has everything he needs already. Grrr.

Now I understand why people can’t last beyond 2am once they start having 9-5 jobs. Their bodies will creak and scream for rest. Bah. It shows my lack of exercise!

Next Wednesday, YaWA? is going to record the 5/4 song. It may go into Music For Good’s compilation CD. Stress lah. That’s the hardest song for me because I’ll screw up one particular fill-in every time we perform it since I go by instinct to fill-in once I get lost in the music and forget to count. Well, I’m practising madly — people probably think I’m crazy whenever I count to myself with my fingers and (attempt to) beatbox. I really hope that the recording will turn out good and our song will be selected for the CD.

So excite!

I’m 4 toes away from hitting the big 2. I don’t wanna grow old

Come and catch proficient local guitarist Rosli Mansor and his band play both original instrumentals and covers at Hard Rock Cafe this Thursday (23/8), 10.30pm. They will also be playing at the Esplanade this Sunday (26/8), 7.30pm, at the Powerhouse Stage. The accompanying musicians are Bani Rahman (bass), Shern Wong (rhythm guitar) and Adam Shah (drums).

More about them here. […]

Paprika was a blast. I loved the colours and the soundtrack. Like typical Japanese anime, the movie rounds up itself by using flashbacks to explain the earlier enigmas. But there was so much going on (subtitles included) that the movie’s message only dawned upon me after I sat down and thought about it. Just a bit of gripe: Everything about the main characters are intertwined with each other. Of course, they are the main characters, but ’coincidence’ feels forced when things become too fitting.

This is not so much of a review but more of the take-home message:
Paprika represents the acting conscience (choice) that stands between dreams (sub-conscious) and reality (consciousness). Between what one dreams (verb) of and what remains reality. And finding that balance among duality appears to be the theme of this movie.

Greed, immaturity, deceit, lust, anger, inferior complexes, guilt, suppression etc. are just some aspects of human nature that causes one to spiral out of control in order to chase a dream (both noun + v.). This manipulation and destruction of man’s physical and emotional being results in a disastrous domino effect (noisy scenes, destroying lives, cities etc.) follows.

So, for everything that’s bad, something good exists. Here, compassionate, brotherly and ’pure’ love (that looks beyond all of one’s negative traits) balances out evil. And to drive the point across, the abovementioned love ultimately wins.

Paprika’s role is to help people who have unanswered dreams (v.) trapped within their dreams (n.) and enable them to make a choice that’s preferably for the greater good. To add another dimension to the story, Paprika herself is one half of duality — a person’s struggle to come to terms with her emotional side — and she (Paprika) only becomes alive in her dreams (n. + v.).

Every main character in the movie is delibrately given two sides to their character. Even the villian — but we see that even in his ‘both sides’, the ‘good’ side is actually bad because he uses it to manipulate others and achieve his selfish means (not accepting reality).

‘Paprika’ is basically about morals and about being self-aware and realistic. There is a Paprika in every one of us, so to speak, and listening to it (conscience) will indefinitely spice up our lives. Otherwise, when such un-sorted out dreams (v.) merge into one’s reality, terrible things can happen.

4 out of 5 stars.

"People using CIA and FBI computers have edited entries in the online encyclopedia Wikipedia on topics including the Iraq war and the Guantanamo prison, according to a new tracing program." […]

AMN1, I really like this song despite its history. Let’s try something with it can?

Anyhow, since Inch revived the existence of this in my memory, please click on the following:

Johari window - Selecting neutral-positive character traits

Nohari window - Negative character traits (yes, I’m setting myself up for the slam.)

Do it! 

And I find myself questioning once again:

What can I do with the little I have? Where can I fully utilise my abilities (and what are they really)?

My mom was ever so accurate in detecting my half-past six character when I was six. You get the idea. Her prophecy has never failed since.

Yes, that’s it. I’m like an atom. Where there’s no heat or magnetic force keeping me together, my particles flail. Funny how I love an organised, logical environment that’s dynamic and free-flowing. My ideal scenarios consist of oxymorons. Or triangles. Two different corners that meet in the middle.

Thirst not, want not. Why do I always wonder farther than I think?

Laziness, you are the bane of my life. I’ve conveniently forgotten about my every-morning-do-30-crunches regimen after 3 weeks of doing it regularly. Look, I’m not conscious about the weight. I’m conscious about the waist. It’s my fault that I wear fitting clothes — clothes that fit like what, 3 years ago? Not that it doesn’t fit at all already, but feeling unfit (punpunpun) really is crappy. And flabby.

Psst, Glory Tennis Club chairman aka Christina, please organise tennis this week!

In other sports-related news, StanChart Marathon is here once again. CH, my ex-colleague, has challenged me to obtain a better timing than she did (she’s twice my age and has bad knees) this time. Yeah, yeah. Sigh. Must… Train…!

Finally, does anyone know of any sandals that are nice and have good cushioning for feet with high arcs? Birkenstocks, when their soles start to wear off, are really quite detrimental to my ankle. No, I don’t like to wear shoes on a regular basis. Sandals recommendations prease…

For one who usually has so much to say, she kept silent. Her mouth suddenly seemed to disagree with the nudging pulses that the brain was sending and remained set.

Snap.

One fleeting moment was all it took for her to doubt herself. All that resilience; all that so-called strength. Coward.

Snap.

Where has that smart-mouthed, devil-may-care teen gone? It’s probably a good thing that she’s learnt to keep her mouth shut. But when should she actually open it? Suddenly, knowing what to say, when to speak and how to do so has become such a whale of a matter. And by the time she decides what to say, the relevance-clock ticks its last. So much to say, so much to add. Yet they are now nugatory.

One. She decides to voice it out anyway. Sometimes, it gets through. She becomes part of the conversation. Add one to Esteem. Otherwise, her words resound – not in their minds – but from bouncing off ears that have decidedly blocked them out. And they go right back at her, mocking. Take one from Courage.

Two. She keeps her mouth shut. Add one to Perception; take one from Self-efficacy. Oh, and add three each to Boredom and Detachment.

Snap.

What maketh a man? Is it his being, his job, his ability, his friends, his acceptance in the society? Perhaps it is true to a large extent. People do obtain self-worth from other’s perception of themselves. Many value themselves according to how much other people value them.

Snap.

At least, she knows one thing. That eternal acceptance precedes all else on earth. The world is transient. But there’s a Higher Being for her to look to and establish a relationship with. Not that eyes can see, but the heart can feel. Not a figment of her imagination, but a real closeness and experience that has both visibly and inwardly changed her.

Value? It’s all a matter of perception.

I’m down with flu and on MC. Sick and tired (pun intended) of lying on the bed and tossing around, I decided to cook some pasta. After all, I’d conveniently gotten ingredients for pasta when I went grocery shopping for the tiramisu I made for Adam. I wanted to try cooking ChubbyHubby’s Mentaiko Pasta but I couldn’t find any Mentaiko (a sac of fish roe), so I made do with the basic mushroom and bacon combo. Instead of bacon, I got salami. I loveee salami.

I must say it was a simple and quite delicious attempt albeit a tad salty. Next time, I’ll use less garlic butter and add more spices. I shall name it… Uh… Mushroomlami Pasta! So creative right. Bah. This week is going to be an Italian week… I just had a Linguini Marinara at Al Dente with Adam and Eve (I kid you not) on Sunday, and Casa Roma is up next for QH’s birthday on National Day. And Rocky’s Pizza on Saturday. Die lah. It’s burning up a hole in my pocket! (Not to mention that I’m sick.)

Recipe (serves ONE. Hah.)

100g angel hair pasta
3 medium-sized shittake mushrooms, soaked in water and sliced
3 slices of german salami, sliced
1 garlic, finely chopped
1/2 tablespoon of garlic butter
1/2 cup of chicken stock
2 tablespoons of balsamic vinegar
1 tablespoon of white wine

Cook the angel hair pasta in boiling water. Add a bit of salt to taste. Take it out when it’s almost cooked and set aside.

Get a frying pan, wash it and heat it up. When the pan is hot and no more water particles remain, turn the fire to medium-low and add the garlic butter, chopped garlic, balsamic vinegar and white wine. Throw in the mushrooms and salami. Stir fry for a few seconds. Add the angel hair pasta, chicken broth and stir. Once the pasta is al dente (firm but not hard) and the chicken broth is almost reduced to nothing, pour out onto a plate. (Remember to turn off the fire.) Crack some peppercorn and spices over it.

Dig in while its hot!

NOTE: Do NOT read past this line if you don’t want to know what happens to Harry Potter even after the scanty epilogue.