Shrine of Colin Firth.
Colin Firth’s Shrine.
Firth Words.
Colin Sin.
Darcy vs. Firth
….oh my godddddd. Oh god, this girl needs help.Divine Intervention even.
Well, Universe, feel free to drop in anytime.Anytime at all. Day or night, in whatever form necessary. Maybe bout a 1.85m, chestnut hair, broad-shoulders, chiseled jaw-package is tolerable as well.
Just sayin’.
Couldn’t give more of a damn really, if you asked me if I wanted peas or potatoes to go with my meat.
I don’t want peas, potatoes or to work on my 2nd last day of work.
But I suppose I must, but I simply can’t stop watching Colin Firth, he ages so fuckably well. Dratted old man. *drops to knees and prays for forgiveness over blasphemous statement*
I simply adore watching him, there’s nothing else to it and till something else comes my way and no not work, but something else more beautiful or meaningful…maybe both, comes my way, I am gonna be drooling over Firth. Ok drooling is not exactly it, I have that much control. But my stomach tightens in anticipation each time I see his face and my hair stands and I’m afraid if I lose control, I just may go to the other end of the age spectrum to look for The One.
And what if some old perv takes advantage of me?! 
Shucks. But really Universe, if everyone’s equal in your eyes, you shoulda damn well created us all identical. How else is equality supposed to be practised?! But in any case since I’ve prior experiences in old pervs, identifying and avoiding them should be a breeze… And I simply must remember to give my judgement more credit than the current amount allocated to it!
Sheeesh woman, anyone would think you were only 5 and naive enough to assume all lollipops taste of candies and clouds.
Syntax, according to www.dictionary.com, is the study of the rules for the formation of grammatical sentences in a language. It also had a ton of other related meanings, of which this was understood the fastest. Heh.
The sudden interest in this word stemmed from a infatuated viewing of an interview I had seen during work today… but if it makes me spruce up my vocabulary, or revise it with exacting care, I declare it to be a well-intentioned distraction, if ever there could be one! Anyway, I miss English. I wish I took up literature instead of bloody mass communications. I miss prose and poem and I just bloody wished I had listened to father, with regards to that. But, never too late is it?
Come 2012, alongside my Masters programme I am thinking of taking minor courses among which definitely would be drama and literature. Well, the former may probably be me joining a club, though I daresay a class would be brilliant, if for no other reason other than to recount my childhood spent in glorious drama classes, forgetting everything, everything that took place outside of those white-washed walls, voice-throwing exercises, enacting out a duck’s waddle or a frog’s leaps and bounds.
As part of my infatuated-proceedings, I was taken in by my subject’s classes and methods learned at the school of drama and the ease with which the theatrical vocabulary was a part of his everyday-vernacular. Well, he is an actor, so no biggie I was thinking…but it occured to me that I don’t use any mass-comm related knowledge or methods whatsoever, in my work, talk, thought or as a oh-well-I-spent-30k-so-let-me-just-bloody-well-use-it reason every now and then. No, I SIMPLY DON’T. It’s not in my blood.
I want something to run through my veins in addition to my blood. Like how it runs through for Colin Firth. I wish I hadn’t seen his Actors Studio session. But it’s good. A fire under my belly is exactly what I need.
I just wish I wouldn’t douse it ever so often, by sleeping over it -.-
Anyway, it’s also certain that I absolutely must be with someone who wraps me with words and cocoons me with the secure warmth that is the sole characteristic of words that have been never more true. Nothing else can or will do. Just speak to me. Sit me down and really speak to me; I will listen and love. There is nothing else to it. There is nothing more I want to want or do.
I mean of what use is a touch or a gaze, without words whispered into the very canal of my heart, which would send them straight to the narrow crevices of my mind, where centered is my soul and spirit that actually know what is to be expected and merely reflects back what always is. This confirmation is what I seek. After which, comes contentment. Perhaps…
But I can confirm that I can do without the two, just as long as you…
Water me with words. Stoke me with sonnets.
Love me with lines. Pleasure me with poems.
Keep me with Keats. Oscillate me with Oscar Wilde.
Join me with Jane Austen. Deliver me, my Darcy.
Christmas that is. I love it now as a 25-year old, than as a 5 or 10 or whatever year old… I mean for the duration of time I was in school.
As I let myself go back, which is hardly ever really…deranged place and phase that was… I feel a bottomless pit opening up… (which also may have been brought upon by a conversation I’m having with a friend now about another friend and well.. I simply must get over this whole exclusivity-concept and keep it exclusive.
But I fuckin’ thought I had.)
Anyway…gettin’ back to what I originally had in mind… Christmas marked the countdown to the end of the year and the start of the new school year which royally fuckin sucked. Yep, that was my Christmas from ’93 to ’00.
But since then, I love it and in fact probably subscribe to Santa Claus now and I’m not even talking in Facebook-context 
Straaange it is the life we lead and world in which we lead it in. Merry merry Christmas.
I don’t bloody know why I’m feelin so down. Ok, I do know why. I am just so annoyed as to why euphoria can’t last longer than a month…
And then just as I’m down, I see some movie that is like a punch to the gut and I wanna crawl up and brood and mull and daydream and just wonder where it all went wrong in my past life that this current one is being such a bitch. Don’t get me wrong, I wanna grab life by the damn horns and ride it like the mistress of my destiny and all of that spiel.
I guess you or whoever it is setting up the idea in my head, is right. I just need to snap out of this and subsequent posts have to be about, well ideally, on my 1st steps to take once I land in Sydney. That should get me outta the funk and also stop me from blowing up at mum when she asks me about my plans.
Should. Would. Could. Perhaps. Maybe. Probably. Possibly. Guess. Might. – My life would be worth a lot more if I didn’t have those words in my vocabulary.
And I can’t sleep.
Sooo I came upon such a precious gem of a film, it’s quite a surprise it’s not all that well-known given the writer/director/actor is “Ted Mosby” known as Josh Radnor in reality and all that popularity of How I Met Your Mother.
But I’m not complaining, these are the best kinda surprises.
Happythankyoumoreplease.
That is such a wannabe-cutesy-title if ever I had seen one. But just the fact of having time on my hands, dinner to eat and no one to talk to drove me to look at trailers and well Josh Radnor while quite the whiney thing is still a cutie pie and I don’t need Oscar to keep me company while I while away the time. So…off I went into this first directorial venture and….
Awwwwwww!!!
…I loved all of it and wished it went on and on and on and so glad it didn’t. I just loved everything about it, though it was nothing ground-breaking (come to think of it, not all that is ground-breaking is love-worthy right?!) and it def has its fair share of cheesy-stuff but maybe it because it is ‘Ted’ and you naturally expect it perhaps…but the characters and lines work. They really do.
Characters:
- Struggling author meets struggling singer
- Struggling author’s best friend suffers from Alopecia and while outwardly sassy and put together, wants the true love in a good lookin’ package.
- Struggling author meets a small boy by chance and is saddled with him, altering his priorities.
- Struggling author’s cousin is in love with big-floppy-haired-man who loves her as much but….. yeah, there’s always the but.
All of these people come together and yet they don’t but it was ok for me, because somehow the stories all seemed so important for me to continue watching without rooting for anyone in particular, and finding myself invested in each one of them. I think that is the success of his story and movie.
Best lines of the night.
“You write short stories and I think you like living short stories. I’m kinda ready for the novel, you know?”
Struggling actor’s cousin’s boyfriend wants them to go to LA and live another life, and she doesn’t want to because New York is home. She finds out that she is pregnant and is torn between telling him and not because she doesn’t want to be the woman who tied him down and yet he’s her best friend and she’s just so completely torn up about the whole thing. ..and …and ….And the next scene happens:
“Tell me what is going on.” “I can’t. I am afraid of what will happen if it hits the air.” “You can say anything to me. You threw a vase at my head three years ago, and I stuck around didn’t I?” “You ducked.” “Fuck yeah, I ducked. I have great reflexes. That’s what I am saying; I can take it… “ There’s a gap and he says, “Whisper it to me” and she leans in to do just that. He pulls back, looks her in the eye and goes “I will live wherever you want.”
Struggling actor’s best friend likes this guy who likes her a great deal but… “he looks like he should be making balloon animals at a birthday parties. Why do I have to be with balloon-animal-guy?”
and then… during dinner, balloon-animal-guy (who’s actually a lawyer on the 7th floor of the building where she works in, on the 5th floor) says:
“Close your eyes. I just want you to listen to me. Humor me please. It’s not easy to be a dork. You in particular, you have a tougher time with it than most. I get that. But I want you to give it a try. Think of it as an experiment. I promise I will be wonderful in adoring you Annie. It’s an area where I think I got a great deal of talent. You are worth that adoration Annie. You are worth it. And the fact that you don’t believe it has nothing to do with whether it is true or not. It is true for me and that is all that matters.”
Struggling actor listens to his best friend’s phone message/epiphany:
“I love me some beauty. I mean, who doesn’t? But here’s the crazy thing Sammy boy; I am listening to SAM #2 becuase he made me close my eyes…SO HAWT…and he is making a total case for me and him to be an item. And as he’s talking, it’s like the molecules on his face must have rearranged theselves. Cuz, when I open my eyes, suddenly I am in front of the most beautiful gorgeous man…
…Sadness begone. Let’s be people who deserve to be loved. Who are worthy of being loved. Because we are worthy. We really are. That’s what you have been telling me for years, and now I get to spit it back at you.”
But the best one-liners were:
“FUCK! Don’t swear.” – said to kid who’s following him around, and repeated on repeated occasions 
“Thank you. More please.” and say it with a smile. The Universe has a middle name and it is Abundance 
ps: I love me some Scruff – 
I am a coward.
I am romantic coward and that is an oxymoron as they are the antithesis of each other.
Anyway, I’m going around the mulberry bush.
So this morning I was going to work, having told my colleague that I was going to be late and simply NOT looking forward to the rowdy bunch of children I had to deal with. I reached the 2nd leg of my journey and was waiting for the train at Bishan. Lookin’ around I caught the eye of this guy, whom I thought “hmm!” but being me; I looked in front again, the train came, I got in, found a seat and sat.
And then he came on, and stood opposite, on the other side of the train. And I took a really really good look… Boy was he tall and just so well-built! For an indian guy, I mean I still couldn’t make out if he was a local or from India… I mean he could really go both ways I think…
Anyway back to my stranger… I don’t know what it was, but it just kinda build up and I had to had to had to look at him to tell myself he really wasn’t that big a deal.
He was. He is, well cuz he’s not dead right? But before that, I am just gonna fast forward to the part where he sat opposite me. And as he sat I sneaked up to look and oh bloody hellll… He looked and looked and just wouldn’t look away!
I mean like I can take an intense 101 class from him or something. And it wasn’t scary..he wasn’t staring..he was just holding my look and yes well, I broke it. I don’t know what to do in a situation like this!!! There’s no soundtrack that comes on or director that tells either of us anything! Yes, it was a scene right out of a movie, but that was it. A scene with no beginning or end.
It’s been a few hours after it’s happened and I wish I had written this then, cuz now all I feel is a slight annoyance at how high I get and a kind of flushed embarrassment.
And also I think I forgot his face.
Ok not really… He was wearing a checkered shirt..pretty normal, jeans and was carrying a bagpack. He had the most limbre fingers…long and tapered. And as he sat, looking at me, the one thing I can’t shake off was the fact that it was such an expressive gaze, but his face held no smile or smirk. For a second I was tempted to fluff my hair to see if I had a stray strand stickin’ out.
Heh. Well anyway, I think I just kept looking at anything else, everywhere else but just straight ahead of me..I must have looked like my neck was having’ a spastic condition I think. In any case, when people started streaming in from the next stop, I figured it’s safe to look straight ahead, but nope. The girl infront of me was a tad too slim and I see him, it is not like he needed to shift or anything, it just seemed so…well anyway.. he was looking at me and it just made me feel.. I don’t know what the word is.
It wasn’t creepy, I can’t overemphasise that enough, but like it was a tipping-point moment of sorts I think. If I had just held it for longer or maybe looked at him as he was getting off, who knew?
I had the most incredibly big grin just wanting to fill up my face, I just can’t do all this mystery-intensity-fancy-smancy-stuff…I MEAN I REALLY REALLY CAN’T! I break out in such giggles at the “absurdity” of it all, that I later recall it is usually what I love to watch on-screen :p fuckin paradox I tell ya! But anyway, it was just super hot that a man like that just didn’t feel like taking his eyes off me. That’s all
I wonder if I will ever see him again before I leave for Sydney…. and this time I promise to smile as well.
I can’t believe I came out of my I-don’t-think-you-exist-beyond-these-walls mode to actually date you for 11 freakin months. Gross… I am not even going to ask as to what I was thinking, CUZ I WASN’T.
I can’t believe that I allowed you close. Disgusting creep, I just really would like to humiliate you so badly and watch you cry, crash and burn. On repeat mode. Perhaps get Furry to tear you up in multiple pieces and watch maggots and cockroaches infest your wounds and make it their home. I HATE YOU.
I am over you and now I just want to be over hating you and get down to forgetting you. You don’t ever think do you? I mean, not science-think, but humanity-based thinking. I should have known, from the irrational way you asked me out. Fuck me and my fairy-tale sensibilities. I hope you come tomorrow just so all that you gave me, which wasn’t much and such mush, can be thrown in your face. I hated every single gift and gesture and you will know it.
Grammar mistakes in a gift meant for me? You Sir, must be out of your brilliant mind.
To think that you didn’t think about how it would be to gift me a living thing, just because I wanted one???? If I want one I will get one. My fault, thinking it would all work out. And now just like that because of you I have to give him up for adoption. You don’t realise this is a family that has known loss and to introduce someone new, only to lose it is to have it repeated all over again. You don’t realise this.
Once again I must man up, and laugh through it all because to cry would be just… godammit I want to cry. But if I cry then who is going to comfort my sister? You??? Asshole, I had to get into a fight with you to get it into your head that your presence would serve as a bloody distraction for her. You make me so so so sick.
Oh my god, the violence building up within me… I have never wanted to hear a skull crack as bad as I want to hear yours. I just want you out of my conscious and the sub.
I woke up to a nightmare of successive miscarriages. I don’t know if it was me or someone else in the dream.
It was morning and the woman had just patched up a fight with her husband and he was consoling her. They are about to leave when a sudden lurch moves her to run towards a washroom. Any room. Anywhere but before that is done, a trail of blood begins and she knows she’s miscarried for the 3rd time.
Her wailing and self-flagellation at her incapability wakes me up. – 10 mins more for me to leave if I wanted to be on time for work.
Of course I got in at 9:10. Neither was I going through what woke me up on the way to work. I wasn’t ready for an MRT-meltdown. I know this is an effect of having watched “Mayakkam Enna” but it scares me to my core of knowing that I can be so moved. It also terrifies me, knowing the ease with which we woman are able to bear our men.
” You are searching for your half in the nights, not realising that it is me you are looking for.
I am asking you to come next to me, I will tell you a story my love…..
…. Why this sadness? I am also your mother aren’t I?…
The search in your gaze, the wanderings of your heart, I will bear it for a 7 lifetimes for you…
…You live on fire and move like the river without a reason, this child who dons a mustache“
Romantic isn’t it? Ideal perhaps? Ok, not for feminists and women-rights-activists and generally women of this time and age.
It is for me. It is for me and I’m scared I will not have the strength to actually do that. At the same time I know it is not the ideal, just a hazy vision that works to men’s advantage and women’s strengths. All that is going through my mind is I believe that there is something not quite right with me as yet and I don’t mean it in a awwww-I’m-imperfect manner. No, it’s more of how one needs to undergo the preparation before embarking on anything, and I just haven’t prepared enough. Thing is, each one’s preparation is different and I just wish I knew what it was I needed to prepare for.Who it is that I need to prepare for.
It would be nice if he and I could be in this together. But there must be some reason why we probably aren’t. Till then, am going to dissect this song, if it doesn’t turn me into a puddle and man, I wish I paid better attention in Tamil class!!
