Life is Bizarre

Read in one of the Malay papers this morning that some poor kid in Indonesia was killed by... get this... a Komodo dragon.

The eight year old boy went into the shrubs to do his business, and suddenly this big lizard rushes up, bites him on the hip (according to the paper lah. 'Pinggang' probably sounds better than 'buntut'), shakes him from side to side and probably tried to eat him.

His fisherman uncle saw what happened and started throwing rocks at the reptile. It let go and the boy managed to make a dash for it. Unfortunately, he died from blood loss later.

How bizarre is that???

There hadn't been any death by Komodo dragons in 33 years, according to the article.

And it was reported that Komodo attacks on humans were rare. The locals thought it was probably because there was a shortage on the island of the lizards' usual prey.

So there he was, this skinny 8 year old kid, running around his fishing village where Komodo sightings were probably a common occurence. He decides to take a dump, goes into the jungle (which is probably a regular occurence too), squats there in the bushes, minding his own business (literally and metaphorically), and he gets this big CHOMP on his naked ass by some large scaly lizard with sharp teeth and a slimy mouth. And half an hour later, he died, just like that!

Talk about being at the wrong place at the wrong time. Poor kid. What a way to go.

I watched Pirates 3... BEFORE the world premiere!!

Aren't you green with envy? Aren't you just about to choke on your jealousy?

Thank you, thank you. I'm the best. No, no, it's alright for you to say it. I acknowledge it.

It's not because of the pirates that I got to watch Pirates. (geddit, geddit???) I actually went to the cinema for this. I did not furtively sneak to my usual DVD seller.

It's thanks to one of my clients and my boss, actually. The client booked the entire theatre for some charity thing. And my boss was nice enough to ask client for more tickets so that almost everyone from the office got to go (including my brother, who just joined us three days ago for his internship. Lucky brat.)

So when the movie premiers TODAY (Thursday night), I will be laughing with glee at all those people desperately queueing to get tickets, when I watched it the night BEFORE, for FREE. Mua ha ha ha!

Shall I provide a spoiler here and just ruin the anticipation for everyone who's planning to watch the movie? Hmm, shall I?

People died (sort of), and was brought back to life (sort of).

Anyhow, the movie itself wasn't that great. So predictable of three-part movies for the first to be the best. That's the case with Matrix, the entire Batman series (except for Batman Begins, starring Christian Bale and an entirely different director) and unfortunately, Pirates of the Carribbean. The only trilogy that consistently got better and better right up till the last bit of the third instalment is Lord of The Rings. But that movie is in a class of its own. (Spiderman was just a major flop all the way through. After watching #2 on TV, the bunch of us couldn't even be bothered with #3.)

Pirates 3 was too fantastical, too out-of-this-world (literally and figuratively), too unreal. The first one, Curse of the Black Pearl, was darned good fun, and all about crazy, drunk, swashbuckling pirates wreaking havoc across the seven seas. Throw in some undead and unkillable and you have a nice mix of wild adventure, comic gags and exciting fight scenes. It was about human actions and interaction, and it was REAL.

The second, Dead Man's Chest, received a bit of lunacy in the form of giant squids and a 'squiddy' unkillable captain who somehow manages to achieve immortality even though his heart was OUTSIDE his chest. There was some element of the supernatural involved when Barbossa was brought back to life through some sea-witch. And then the lead character, Jack Sparrow, got swallowed by said giant squid. But we all knew it couldn't be the end of him, of course. After all, he's CAPTAIN JACK SPARROW! (to be uttered with drunken drawl while swaying back and forth)

The third, At World's End, is when the producers (or whoever writes the script) went really deep into their rum, port or vodka lime, take your pick. It takes otherworldly to a new level. Hitherto unknown goddesses of the sea spring up like enraged Amazonian Giant Women. Magical rocks turn into creepy crabs. Ships sail on desert sands. Characters are killed and return from the dead. (check out their idea of a seafarer's hell: rather unimaginative) But this piece of genius takes the cake: the director decides to turn his camera 180 degrees upside down and then right side up again.

I think they were running out of ideas. The whole series started out so well, with likeable characters, enjoyable dialogue, believable plots. Then the writers got carried away on their imagination (or rum) and the plot lines started getting as tangled as Elizabeth Swann's hair on a windy day. It got really difficult to tie up all those loose ends (and long list of characters) and give closure to a good pirate tale. Kill of some lesser characters here and there, kill off some main characters BUT bring them back to life again. Yada yada yada.

Ah well. Certainly not as bad as Matrix 3 or Superman. (Joseph will probably say that '300' was a lot worse.) And of course, it's nowhere near as bad as the three super hero babes: Aeon Flux, Ultraviolet, and... crap, I forgot one more.

Worth watching just to finish off the series, if you followed Pirates 1 and 2, but not worth watching twice. Which is unfortunate, since I'm watching it again in the cinema TOMORROW.

Nevermind, I'll just admire the delicious Orlando Bloom and try to pick up make-up tips from Jack Sparrow, whose black eyeliner simply DOES NOT BUDGE despite being subjected to swirling seas, the slimy belly of the Kraken, the Underworld, truckloads of rum, and being slapped around by offended prostitutes. Now THAT's supernatural.

Dreams do come true

Talking with my colleagues during lunch today made me realise how fortunate I am.

They see me as living the life I want, chasing my dreams.

Seeing it from their perspective, my eyes were opened.

I've found my Grand Passion. I am living the life I want (to a certain extent), and living my dreams in full blooming technicolour.

Misja said I was lucky to have discovered something I'm so passionate about. He said that many people spend their lives searching, sometimes never finding it. He hasn't.

Come to think of it, I wasn't so crazy about it until this current partner. He has literally brought the stars down from the sky for me.

Before him, I had some nebulous dream about winning Blackpool. The passing of the years has shown that this will never happen.

With him has come realistic, achievable (SMART!) goals. Suddenly, I'm staring at the possibility of the SEA Games in a matter of months. He has swept me along on his desire to be ranked, to pit ourselves against the best in the country, to aim for a reachable star.

We've set short- and medium-term goals for our dancing, made priorities and sacrifices, discussed plans and our projections for the future. And I am blessed because our dreams (he would call it 'goals' or 'objectives', I prefer 'dreams'. Reveals the nature of our personalities, eh?) are very closely aligned.

I still want to dance at the Empress Ballroom during the UK Open championships, but the operative verb is 'dance', not 'win'. Simply to compete on that historical floor against couples from around the world will be enough for me.

But working with someone who shares the same goals/dreams is fantastic. Meeting up four to five times a week and slogging it out on the floor, ironing out the kinks, breaking down our routines, setting training schedules, repeating our steps till we can do it in our sleep... all the while moving toward the goal which seems ever more achievable... it's a great feeling.

I love dance. I have fun doing it. I could do it all day and all night and still ask for more.

But he has unwittingly channeled the enjoyment, fun and desire into a tangible, result-oriented activity.

And I'm loving it all the more because of this.

I didn't even realise it till today's casual lunchtime chat with my dear old colleagues, who I can always rely on to be honest and straightforward with their thoughts.

In this goal-setting respect, he's an even better partner for me than I ever imagined. I dance because I want to. He dances because he wants to be the best.

And laidback person that I am, that's fine by me!

He's given me a goal, a reachable star. I'm living my dreams. I hope it never ends.

Dancing at AIM

We had the chance to perform at AIM 2007 last Saturday, and what a marvelous experience it was.

The whole day had been memorable. From 8 in the morning, we were dancing till 11 at night. (now that's my kind of Saturday =) )

The thrill of performing onstage, in front of a large audience, of lights, cameras and live music. A gorgeous dress, dramatic make-up, upswept hair, ridiculously high-heeled shoes.

And when everything came together... my partner and I moving as one - slick, swift, rhythmic dancing, clean footwork, sharp-hitting arm movements, that performer's smile on our faces, bodies moving to the music... it's simply amazing.

Elation, confidence, excitement, thrill, butterflies in the stomach.

Best of all, the second the performance is over, and you KNOW you gave one heck of a good show, that you did your best and you looked terrific, when the audience claps and cheers and shrieks... Taking your bow, savouring the moment.

Words fail.

To top off a wonderful day, we were in the dressing room after the performance when we found out the results of our competition: 2nd in C and 4th in B. Certainly better than expected. Great way to end a lovely day.

Once in a lifetime experience indeed.

Me Not Tai-Tai!

I'm not as much of a tai-tai as I thought I'd be. Rather startled yet pleased by the revelation.

Just had a full day spa session as my birthday present this year. Joe got us a couples spa package.

I loved the treatments - massage and mani & pedi - but the rest of the time was spent sitting in a lounge, reading magazines or watching movies. While dressed in a strange green bathrobe that made all the spa-goers look like POWs.

I was cold, and slightly bored, and trying to avoid secondary smoke.

Was this what people did in spas???? Suddenly, my imaginings of the hedonistic, luxurious spa lifestyle was obliterated by stark reality. Man, these regular spa-goers have no life!

There are a million other things I could have done at home. If I was home, I'd have my own reading materials, DVDs, music, PC, pao-paos, etc. Without the strange green bathrobe and POW underclothes and dodging secondary smoke and freezing air conditioning. Granted, I wouldn't have a buffet spread, but I can always raid my fridge.

Anyhow, it was a good experience. But next time, I'm going for the RM40 Thai massage in a first-floor shoplot.

Tired, tired, tired

I am the sleep queen. Therefore, I get grumpy when I don't get my 8 mandatory hours of shuteye.

I've been surviving on only 5-6 the past two weeks, darn it! I'm not functioning! I can't even write creatively.

Have been listening to Destiny's Child's "Emotions" so many times I'm amazed my colleagues haven't gone stark raving mad and grabbed me and chucked me out the window in a song-overdose-induced rage. Can't help it. It's a beautiful song. Try to imagine doing the rumba to it everytime I switch it on.

Unfortunately, when I try to picture dance in my mind, I have to shut my eyes and concentrate. That makes me look like I'm asleep... while sitting at my desk not 10 metres away from the boss. Not good.

It's Friday FINALLY. Thank the Lord! But I still have that darned report to hand in by end today. Darn it. Can I pay someone to do it for me? My mind is really not functioning anymore.

Let's listen to Emotions again. Woo hoo!