Danny Elfman scoring Wanted should have given me a clue that I'd love the film.

Which I do.

But Elfman actually sings on the soundtrack, on the track Little Things. Have a listen on this nifty YouTube vid.

I'm terrified, frankly.

I just read this.

I want so much to believe that my government, corrupt and short-sighted as it is, isn't behind this.

I want to have that simple faith my father had when my sister told him how afraid she was for the country; of the encroaching religious zealots, of religion being used as justification for violence and cruelty.

My father told her to have faith in her country.

Well, my sister's safe in the UK and my father has probably changed his stance now. East Malaysia no longer believes the Federal Goverment really gives a damn about it. It never did. So I watch as the people from my State slowly squeeze bribes out of the government with that unspoken message: "We saved you. We could bury you. You owe us."

A farce of a murder trial. A damning statutory declaration. The feeling our 'melting pot' that's been simmering for years is just waiting to boil over.

The funny thing was, I was thinking of an alternate reality script. A treatment for a show.

The premise would be - what if the opposition had won the election?

I predicted chaos. After the triumphant celebration and the opposition leader was to be named Prime Minister, an assassination attempt. Almost successful, putting him in a coma. Before the official handover.

And the government, who was supposed to hand over power, doesn't. Instead, a declaration of emergency. For the general good. Martial law.

Darkness. Death squads. In the name of 'preserving the peace' and 'removing threats to stability'.

I just hope that's all just going to stay in my imagination.

Nasty. Harder than steel, colder than a glacier, cooler than you. Angelina Jolie is in fine form in my favourite summer movie this year, WALL-E be damned. (Because by the time WALL-E plays in Malaysia, it won't be summer anymore)

The film's everything I thought it could be. Loud, fast, brash. But I loved it. I f-ing loved it so much every cuss word in my vocabulary wanted to come out and play.

James McAvoy is darling and pretty convincing as the downtrodden everyman, who suddenly gets the chance to play hero.Morgan Freeman, though, hardly has to do anything. His 'wise mentor' role is something he's done so often, he could probably sleepwalk through the film and no one would notice.

The director,Timur Bekmambetov, was an inspired choice for a film that could have ended up a Pearl Harbour-like disaster under someone like Michael Bay. OK, Bay did manage not to screw up Transformers too much but Timur makes Wanted such a stylish tour de force that you'll forget about the plotholes that would ordinarily sink a film like this.

A lot of people are quoting the line "What the f-k have you done lately?" Nice. I should get that tattooed somewhere on my body, to cheer me up when I'm in a self-doubting mess.

But how do you manage to acknowledge your own self-worth, capabilities and achievements while at the same time, try to be humble and not be a pompous arse?

Maybe it's by getting back down to earth and remembering - all I have, was given. That despite my self-destructive youth and former desire to burn myself out of existence, I've been blessed.

Lesson learned after all my self-doubt and recrimination:

I might not deserve all that I'm given; I might not achieve all I could be but I can be grateful.

But I can work, all the days of my life, to make the most of everything I have and am.

And also remember...that other people aren't necessarily motivated to be the best they can be. That if someone doesn't make much of his gifts, it's his choice, not mine. That I shouldn't presume to judge when someone prefers not to be ambitious. That the most important thing isn't that other people give of themselves, but that I do. All the days of my life.

Multitasking is an oxymoron. Focus is key to effectiveness. And I discover that at the grand old age of 30. All my life, I've had constant distractivitis. I want that clarity. That singlemindedness. One thing at a time. So a new path's emerged and it seems all the roads have converged to bring me here. I'm scared and yet I feel better than I have in months.

Middle of night. I step out of my bedroom and slip in a pool of water. Pain. Scraped left arm and there's a stabbing pain in my right heel. Damnit, water tank's overflowed. I rush outside to shut off mains. Then I notice the blood as I come in. It marks a path to the door. Foot bled enough to make it look like a wet, bloody murder happened. Have to mop it up. Else housemates think I killed someone...or had my monthlies. Death by shame. 2.30am. Tired as hell. Damn I can't put off calling plumber to weekend. Life. It rains on you when you least expect it.

My new favourite music blog is the fun SellTheLie.com where I discovered people like the Old 97's and Augustana.

Augustana might appeal to those who like standard American pop/rock. They're not as commercial sounding as Maroon 5 or Switchfoot, but aren't as rough sounding as Death Cab for Cutie. They'd probably fit somewhere in the middle. Their most acclaimed album has to be the 2005 All The Stars and Boulevards. I keep getting told to go listen to Boston from there.

But my personal favourite is something from their Can't Love, Can't Hurt album - Where Love Went Wrong. Easy on the ears and easy to relate to - how sometimes when you've done all you can to the point all that's left to do is walk away.

(lyrics from the blog Living in a world suffused with sound)

Where Love Went Wrong - Augustana

The day is done, and now we’re older
The feeling's gone, so now you’ll show her
Where love went wrong, on your shoulder

But I tried
I tried, goodbye

You’re all alone, and you can’t take it
You’re just too tired to suffocate it
And all along we’ll just fake it

But I tried,
I tried, goodbye

You try to breathe, you try to save it
But it marks your skin, until they break it
Well could you call when
They’re taking all that you left for me

But I tried,
I tried, goodbye

Nokia's Sports Tracker is a fun, but slightly freaky thing. As you can see by the photo included, you get a pretty accurate map of the locale where you worked out.

I blurred out the names of the actual roads since I'm not that keen on letting stalkers estimate where I live. But the amount of information on the time worked out, the distance, my pace is rather awesome.

1.8km...not bad at all I suppose. My legs are slightly sore and I learned the hard way my body needs a lot of warming up before I can even consider doing even very slow jogging. Had to stop and stretch quite a bit during the first 10 minutes. Still, it was incredibly satisfying to be working out considering I hated track and field at school.

I love the feel of feet on bare grass and running just for the heck of it. But I never had the stamina for athletics in any form. And I learned, the hard way, that hefting 65kg along needs quite a bit of stamina.

Am following Grete Waitz's workout plan - a very gradual walking to running regimen. Three times a week of exercise, with very gradual working up to increased workout times. Waitz is a legend in Norway - she broke the world marathon record nine times during her career and has a yearly women's race named after her. The first year of the race, she coaxed her 65-year old mother into running it with her and together, they finished it.

I fully recommend her book, On the Run: Exercise and Fitness for Busy People. It's filled with practical, no-nonsense advice that is so much unlike other books I've read. She doesn't advocate pushing too hard or straining yourself beyond your capabilities. And I got the book for RM8 at the PayLess Books sale.

My diet/exercise regimen started from the 22nd of June and will end on the 14th of July. It doesn't mean I'm going to stop eating healthy and not exercise when it ends. But right here, right now, I'm committing to minimising my fat and sugar intake while exercising for 30 min a day, 3 times a week for those dates.

Then I'm taking a bit of a sabbatical to get in touch with my inner writer and wrap up loose ends in my personal life.

Professionally, I must admit my gift lies in prose. I write horrible academic papers, am not talented at writing news copy and though I love allusions, metaphors and similes, I might do well to find a way to apply my love to imagery outside of work.

So I just need to step away for awhile and decide on a proper direction. No, I'm not leaving The Mag anytime soon. It's more a self-inventory check to make sure I haven't veered too much off course from where I should be going. Here's to seeking the path!

Some songs, you can't quite listen to because they hurt too much. They remind you of what you don't want to remember or admonish you for what you willingly forget.

I guess Derek Webb's I Repent is that way.

It remind me of the ethos, the creed I live by. It also reminds me how far I fall from it. How every day I wage, and lose, the battle against my ego and my reluctance to embrace humility.

And I forget too often, in my love of material comforts, the good fight for those who have no food to eat and peace is a dream too far distant.

I Repent

(words and music by Derek Webb)

i repent, i repent of my pursuit of america's dream
i repent, i repent of living like i deserve anything
of my house, my fence, my kids, my wife
in our suburb where we're safe and white
i am wrong and of these things i repent

i repent, i repent of parading my liberty
i repent. i repent of paying for what i get for free
and for the way i believe that i am living right
by trading sins for others that are easier to hide
i am wrong and of these things i repent

bridge
i repent judging by a law that even i can't keep
of wearing righteousness like a disguise
to see through the planks in my own eyes

i repent, i repent of trading truth for false unity
i repent, i repent of confusing peace and idolatry
by caring more of what they think than what i know of what we need
by domesticating you until you look just like me
i am wrong and of these things i repent

Here is where I correct the name of the hotel. I didn't realise it, since we arrived when it was all rainy and all I could think about was dumping my things, but we were staying at BP  International House. BP as in Lord Baden-Powell, founder of the Scouts; his wife founded the Girl Guides. And who just happens to share my birthday.

Yes, I was a Girl Guide. My knots still suck but, hey, I'm a half-decent cook and seamstress. :p

BP House is somewhere I'd recommend. It's really very good for a 3-star hotel, with excellent views from the hotel window and a very satisfying hotel breakfast. The staff are friendly, the rooms, though spartan are pretty adequate and clean. No bedbugs.

It was a little sad to be checking out, especially as BP was much better than we'd imagined.

Unfortunately, it left us with a sinking feeling that our next hotel would be far, far worse. It was.

Guangdong Hotel is, quite frankly, unimpressive but for its location. It's just a minute's walk to the MRT and is pretty much smackdab in the city centre, with easy access to Nathan Road. The staff was indifferent, you weren't lucky enough to get a hotel breakfast here, and the rooms? Well, they were a bit bigger than BP and ours had a bathtub. A view? Forget it. Not unless you fancy looking at tall, musty-looking buildings. After we'd dumped our stuff and unpacked, we headed off to where our feet would take us. That meant shopping and using our new Octopus 3-day passes!

We came to a few realisations about shopping in Hong Kong:
1. Hong Kong women have small feet. It's hard to find anything larger than size 39.
2. Hong Kong sizes are one size smaller than ours. So if you wear L, you'll have to look for XL.
3. XL-sizes are near impossible to find

I swear, Hong Kong, when it comes to clothes is made for the skinny, petite or possibly bulimic. But Suan did find a Bossini where the t-shirt sizes were kinder to us and I did manage to find pants. In XL.

I seriously considered not eating for like, forever?

Still, Hong Kong can be a fun place to walk and explore. Also a heaven for shopping...if you can fit into Hong Kong sizes.

(Me, a little weary after traipsing Hong Kong. I did score a nice messenger bag at Esprit for half off. )

I found Hong Kong to be pretty pedestrian friendly, and though my feet ached after hours spent on my feet, I liked how much more convenient walking is in HK compared to KL.

Alcohol, for you liquor lovers, well...it costs the same in Malaysia. More expensive in some places, even. So this is definitely not a place for you to go boozing. Still, there are plenty of coffee shops - try the local Pacific Coffee franchise. Of course, Suan being Suan, we opted for Starbucks instead.

Day the second also saw me really missing the Internet. Free Wi-Fi isn't something easy to find in Hong Kong unless, of course, some poor sod's left his router wide open for people like yours truly to leech off.

Stay tuned for Day Three and impromptu lion dance shenannigans.

Yes, I know I blogged about DestroyFlickr already. But I just have to say that I love viewing my galleries in it. So pretty!

David Lian is a Flickster-fanboy. And yes, I can see the attraction. DestroyFlickr is so pretty, it almost makes me want to get a Flickr Pro account. Almost.

But I'm quite liking Ovi at the moment for its unlimited uploads. And having private channels for media is a plus but unfortunately the widgets need work. I'd love to see more Blogger/Typepad integration for Ovi. And Picasa? Oh, I think it's a great tool to manage photos on my computer but I'm not feeling the 1GB storage space. Nosirree.

Will likely blog more about the Hong Kong trip soon. I still haven't finished the Dim Sum chronicles due to work commitments and late-night emoing.

Was throwing out a ton of junk (again) Saturday night and right at the bottom of a box was a picture. I remember you showing me the pictures from an interview you did, and for some reason the photographer took a picture of you instead.

And there's your face staring at me from the bottom of a box. And I don't understand why I can't bring myself to cry. Don't I feel as much anymore? But I'm giving you the picture back because clinging to it means clinging to the past and I'm trying not to do that anymore.

Pictures. They say, and stir, a thousand words.

Sometimes, it's healthy to take a look back.

Nothing wrong with taking stock of what you missed out the first time; so long as you don't attempt to live in your recollections.

Memory is a funny thing - it'll kick in just when you least want it, failing you when you grapple for it desperately under pressure.

I realise that maybe I'm missing something. That I'm not moving forward and getting on with the rest of my life the way I should.

I'm rather sick of this, really.

The angsty blogposts.

Playing the same old songs over and over again.

Trying too hard not to think about things also has the effect of keeping them more firmly in your mind.

I should be busy living a full life, instead of being stuck on my hangups.

Shoulds. Musts.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm lugging around a sack of my favourite misgivings, heartaches and grudges. That I'm nursing them the way someone would a glass of firewater.

Is angst so addictive, that I draw on it as often as a smoker does his cancer sticks?

Perhaps.

So I had a (legal) listen to Alanis Morissette's new album Flavours of Entanglement.

It's better than anything after Jagged Little Pill. Honestly.

She's still as raw and emotive as ever, but the production is not the barebones approach we're used to. Not so much draggy lyrics over quiet piano. OK, there are a few tracks of that nature (Not As We) but there's also the surface lightness of the almost hopeful Incomplete. I like how accessible the album is and yet it still maintains Alanis's almost blunt but always heartfelt lyrical wording.

My favourite song is the post-breakup song Torch. It's very much my favourite song on the album. And I feel it more than I should, because I'm still broken up in a way over things I should have let go of by now. I guess that's what happens when everything reminds you of someone to the point you can't listen to music, watch a movie, go to the Actor's Studio, eat bak kut teh without remembering.

The song encapsulates what it's like to relive everything you've been through, even when you don't want to. It's like trying to escape smelling like cigarette smoke in a club.

I think it's karma for all the times I gave guys I know shit for not being over a girl. Well, now I'm feeling the whole can't-let-go-itis and it's not fun. And I'm sorry.

Have a listen on YouTube before they yank it off.

Lainie loves Idina Menzel; Calvin likes the song Heaven Help My Heart from the musical Chess. Combine them both and you get this neat YouTube video of Idina singing at the Royal Albert Hall.

I admit to taking a long time to warm up to Flickr. It just never appealed to me much, especially with the problems it used to face when bogged down by too many users.

Then I found the DestroyFlickr Adobe Air app on DestroyToday.com. 'Destroy' here meaning 'deconstruct' as opposed to 'obliterate'.

DestroyFlickr is a beautiful piece of work, that adds a fluidity missing from the original Flickr. Yes, the Flickr Upload app works just as well, but it's not this sexy!

Highly recommended, and I'm hoping for the day twhirl is available for my Nokia N82.

"I'm 27 years old. I've no money and no prospects. I'm already a burden to my parents, and I'm frightened."

Those lines from the Pride and Prejudice movie just break my heart.

Yes, a lot of us single women moan about not having set up house by now. Of having to sift through piles of dating rejects, fending off married men, and dealing with nosy busybodies.

But if we can feed ourselves, take care of our own wellbeing and of our families with our own effort, and by the grace of God, we have it so good already.

I don't have much but I won't go hungry. And I can do my bit so my family doesn't, either. Women before our time didn't have that luxury. A woman without a man had no social standing, found it hard to find a livelihood and was pitied or reviled.

And yes, I've scared off men who find me intimidating or whose egos find my accomplishments off-putting. But my mother taught me early on - don't depend on a man to be your sole provider. Always, always know how to take care of yourself.

It's wonderful to be loved. And lovely to be with someone who loves you the way you need to be loved.

But settling for a liar, a sneak, a wife-beater...anything less than a man with the capacity for good or kindness, just so you won't be alone, is never worth it. In this day, in this age, we women should feel blessed that we have the luxury of choosing.

The Wi-Fi is wonky. I am mopey. All over a Twitter that reminded me of someone I'd rather forget. It's hard to do that when everything reminds you of days past. I remember a wet and windy screening of POTC. I remember waking up early to claim HP book 5. Your ridiculous duck fuzz hair. That damn coffee you like. How you never say my name and your misuse of the word 'Yo'. Guess I need to go make new memories with new people. But you left such a big gap, it's like the void overshadows everything. And I want to be over this. Really. But I've got a You-shaped hole where you were. And I don't know if it will ever go away.

How do I run from what's so intertwined? I don't even want to remember your name.

Part the Second of Day the First (still without dim sum)

So I left it where me and Suan arrived, slightly soggy, at our hotel.

BI International, for all our expectations, turned out very decent. The staff was courteous and attentive, the room spartan yet comfortable and it was not that far a walk to the nearest MRT. After dumping our bags, we then proceeded to explore the city.

Suan decided Nathan Road was a good place to head towards and head for the road we did. It was windy, rainy and yet, pretty crowded. As Suan said, Hong Kong can make you pretty claustrophobic if you let it. People line the roads, day in, day out, crowds and crowds of them all the time. Still, it's a very pedestrian-friendly place with easy access to MRT stations, convenient walkways. Just watch out for the eye-poking umbrellas. Hong Kong people love their umbrellas - go down Ladies Market and look for the umbrella vendors. Big one, small ones, one with handles, ones that lie flat, lacy ones, transparent one, polka dots and Winnie the Pooh-ones...

After all that walking, we didn't end up buying much. I got a soft silicon case for my mobile phone but not much else. Then we went back to the hotel where I fell asleep to dream of dim sum. Perhaps tomorrow? Alas, that was not to be. We found other delights to make our day. But that's a tale for later.

It's my second day here in Hong Kong, but I only managed to get Wi-Fi today, folks.

But we have chronicles! From day 1!

Chapter 1 of the Dim Sum adventures (dim sum not included)
 

(fyi, am testing mobile Typepad app)The best laid plans often go awry. My online comparison is hampered by the suckiness of my home and work Net. Moving somewhere where broadband isn't barely faster than dialup certainly appeals. My eee PC is also having WEP issues. Have tried to come up with scheme to help poor with tech but sad state of broadband and corruption are obstacles. Need more faith.

China Miéville's written a brilliant kid's book - Un Lun Dun. Wacky, fun and extraordinarily whimsical but then Miéville's always been the self-proclaimed king of weird.

For instance: what do you get when you cross a trashcan with a ninja? Binjas! And who needs a talking animal when you can have a cute, discarded milk carton instead? Oh, and it makes cute, whimpery animal noises too. And giving away its name would be too much of a spoiler.

Un Lun Dun's premise of a young girl caught in the middle of a prophecy gone wrong in a parallel universe is an interesting amalgam of ideas. Most of the time, it works. Anyone who loves words and hilarious flights of fancy will enjoy this book. It's just too much fun not to recommend.

In other news, am leaving for Hong Kong tomorrow and finishing as much work as I can today. Back Tuesday, away from the insanity that is Malaysia right now. Am also a little depressed at hearing of people I know migrating to greener pastures. There's now a glimmer of hope of us being able to make baby steps in making change happen. But it's too little, too late for some people. And I have to understand that some people can't afford to wait for our country to get its act together.

So I have a new Symbian phone.

Cue obsessively buying accessories/Googling applications for my N82. I suppose my sold-off Nikon D40 was the equivalent of a neglected stepchild in comparison - all I got for it was a Lowepro Nova 1 AW bag. Even the unnamed N95 got an SU-8W keyboard, 3 different cases and a new screen protector. My iPod has 3 cases, a screen protector and much silly cooing over it.

So what did I install on the N82?

An Angelina Jolie wallpaper (stop groaning, Suan)

Apps:
eReader
Mobipocket
Opera Mini
Internet Radio Player
Share Online 3.0
Nokia Maps 2.0
fring
Flixwagon
Calcium
Typepad
Gmail

And to properly establish my geek cred (or prove that I'm a dork)...

my ringtone is the Tavern theme from World of Warcraft.

There's something about black gadgets that makes it hard for me to ignore them.

I got suckered into buying the 8GB version of the iPod Nano, instead of my originally intended 4GB. Because only the 8GB one came in black.

Then I spotted the Asus EeePC 701 at the PC Fair. Oh yes, it came in black too. And now, behold, the trilogy is complete because I now have a black N82.

If the phone were alive, I'd imagine it'd be singing a ditty like this:
"I'm too sexy for my owner, too sexy for my owner, too sexy for my, for my colour-challenged owner!"

Since I named my laptop George, my iPod Pedro, then what should I call my phone? I considered calling it Damien (devil's son, har har) but I know two Damiens. So instead I'm christening it...Damon. Yes, lame, I know.

So what's so sexy about Damon? Specs-wise, he crams most of what an N95 can do into a leaner, meaner package. Now that does come with a few tradeoffs like a much smaller screen. Otherwise, it's got one heck of camera - 5.0 megapixels with a superb Xenon flash. If it had optical zoom, this phone would probably give you a great reason to just chuck all your point-and-shoot cameras! Picture quality falls just short of amazing and it does decent quality video (30fps) as well.

Other goodies - GPS, HSDPA, Bluetooth, Wi-Fi...and 100MB of internal memory. Now that last bit might sound like a downer but it supports MicroSD and MicroSDHC so you could just slot in one of those high-capacity cards. Incidentally, the black N82 I got came with the free Snakes game as well as Nokia's Sport Tracker.

My own personal Black Trinity of devices. I won't be surprised to suddenly hear voices in the night...who will likely be telemarketers selling me insurance. Who needs denizens from hell when you can hire coldcallers instead?

Well, WWDC and the Jobs keynote happened. There are now REAL pictures of the iPhone 3G. And no, I still don't want one.

Just before I went to bed at night, I was thinking about how inaccessible the iPhone is to blind people. For me a phone with no tactile response just isn't going to be enough. Yes, it is gorgeous. Yes, the apps are awesome (I love the piano app). But the camera still sucks. It's still too big. And texting? Don't get me started.

It is serendipitous that just after I switch back to TypePad, a TypePad app for the iPhone is announced at the WWDC. SixApart now has apps for all major mobile phone operating systems...except for Linux. But my money's on an Android version coming soon. Or the Android users might just end up going the easier route:
m.typepad.com, anyone?

Yes, a few local users are disgruntled Malaysia doesn't have it officially available. Well, that's something you need to bring up with your telcos. Likely due to the large amount of 'liberated' units awash in the market, Apple is understandably leery to offer the phone here for standalone retail. Apple fanboys who want the official iPhone will just have to wait for Celcom, Maxis or DiGi to bring it in. Rumours are Maxis are 'in talks' but I'll believe it when it happens.

And my Nokia N95 is going to be swapped out soon. News on that later. Work to catch up on before a lunch meeting.

"How do you do it?" Irene asked when I told her that, yet again, I was starting afresh with a new blog.

Irene's the opposite of me in that regard. Through the years, she's faithfully ported her archives along with her and if she lives to an old age, I have no doubt her blogposts will live on after she passes.

I like a new start, leaving the past behind and just moving on. Because I believe memories will remain where they should - my head and heart. I don't need pictures or objects of sentimental value. They're nice to have around, no denying that. The silver ring on my hand and the amethyst pendant I wear are the only sentimental things I cling to; everything else, I could very much live without.

Why start anew again? Well, it seems my past webhost had a severe security breach making me skittish about staying with them. I just don't have the time and energy to look after my own webhosting account anymore. So I'm traveling light and just hauling my domain name with me to TypePad.

I've grown to like Movable Type. I'm just not crazy about the long, winding road to customise it. TypePad's the comfortable, though slightly pricey, middle road. Someone else worries about the backend and software, all I need to do is pony up the monthly fee. And blog.

TypePad makes it easy so I don't need to muck with script and though it'd be nice for my TypePad Plus account to give me more customisation options, I can live with what it offers me. So onwards to new blog horizons and a return to blogging on TypePad.