The Running For Life Project Part II

Around noon, I gleefully told April (via sms) that the skies were gray and it looked as if it were to pour any moment. And indeed, down came the rain and we so *mock sob* might not be able to run should the spiel spill over to the evening. Why don’t we drop the original plan and shop and after which chill at my place instead. I bought The Stepper so we can still stick to some kind of exercise regime here.

Dear April will not buy any of my nonsense, oh, the perils of having a determined friend. We must be disciplined, she half-reminded and half reprimanded (maybe 0.01% lar, probably was more amused than anything at my faint but desperate attempts to get out of the action).

Okay, so by 6.45pm, I was in my gear and quite excited at the prospect I was really (and ready) to run on track, instead of running in the circles in my head. Through April’s companionship, it wasn’t painful at all once we started. It’s only the getting down to it that’s the real killer. Once I’m in the stadium, I ran with no glitches.

We did 10 continuous rounds, which means 4km in 35 minutes. But it’s a beginning, so never mind the timings, I’ll work my way up eventually. We chatted as we ran too, so that must have eaten into something.

I don’t get how people can run in the morning before work, and squeeze in a shower in between. Worse, I don’t understand how they can claim to be more mentally alert after the run. I just feel like nua-ing when I completed the rounds and be sluggish and useless. Certainly won’t be getting any work done! Which means I have to run in the evenings and nights.

Thank goodness for the Rawa trip – an excuse for not running, yay! I mean, so sad I can't.

And tomorrow, watching 世界の中心で、愛をさけぶ with Ruth. Woah. Sometimes, girls just wanna have some fun.

Of The Leaving That Leavens

So World has run ahead of Word. The NKF trial/scandal (far more insidious, egregious and flagrant than previously thought possible) is over before I had a chance to run it through and, perhaps, most probably, down. I wanted to say something more about stellar scholarships vs silly, sad scholars, of the pseudo egalitarianism, mock elitism and impossible equality drawn from the view inside but that would have to wait. Then we have bombs and hacks. The volatile and violent happens everyday, but not the blogging. So let me go back to myself first, and the rest shall come in time, if not in this post.

We paid in full for the trip to take place next weekend today. With that, the nebulous plan of leaving filled out. Amazing, if you consider how we have been thinking and talking about it since April. But the fidgety academic and the frothing media-mic have serious incompatible issues when it comes to picking a good time (even if all are scholar-ly enough). We finally nailed down the date last Saturday and the venue on Wednesday.

Minxiu, Meihui and myself (M.A.M) will be at Rawa. Initially, all three couldn’t quite decide on where to head, apart from the unified chortles of 随便 lar - just somewhere along the lines of the idyllic and unspoiled (which I read as uncivilised nature, winsomely untamed) and relatively un-crowded, to bum and chill and just be, in general, away from the dreadfulness that is life in Singapore.

So we played it safe originally and planned to check out Bali. Then on the same day, I came across the Selena Tan’s article in Life! that raved about her experience in Rawa. And it all came flooding back. Instead of calling up the agencies (we had split the agencies amongst us to gun for a better deal) for Bali prices, I trawled The Net for agencies that do Rawa. Then I made my presentation to my would-be travel companions, and the rest is clichéd history.

It is definitely a gamble to go there. Minxiu and Meihui have never heard of the place prior to this. My knowledge is limited, apart of the fact that it is a nature paradise away prying eyes. There is not that much information on the island either. But the pictures are pretty. They calm me. I hope the place has that cleansing and deeper effects on me when I reach there, all ready to be purged of senseless desires and city sins.

Ruth was the one who introduced Rawa to me. We wanted to be here 4 years ago, but we went to Langkawi in the end.

I’m really happy to leave. Only I am in the clear about the significance and magnitude of such a gesture. How the physical departure mirrors my determination to let it down and is a reflection of things to come. I always believe in the pre-emptive.

For geographically apart is one thing, because Singapore is so small, and the useless mind, far too narrow and petty to make way for another. It’s leaving that holds the key to a fuller presence.

If I can leave here, I can leave him too.

If I can go Rawa on my own, I can go anywhere on my own.You know the sort. Little meaningless actions replete with so much meaning, and justification, that only yourself would appreciate.

忽然之间 天昏地暗
世界可以忽然什么都没有

我想起了你 再想到自己
我为什么总在非常脆弱的时候 怀念你

我明白太放不开你的爱 太熟悉你的关怀
分不开 想你算是安慰还是悲哀
而现在 就算时针都停摆 就算生命像尘埃
分不开 我们也许反而更相信爱

The Male Sex In Sin City

Minxiu: I’m surprised you liked Sin City, considering how you hated Batman.

I’m not surprised. The premises of the two movies are worlds apart. So is the characterisation. Batman is about this whiny boy-man all too consumed by searing doubt, wretched guilt and annoying self-centredness. A man like this reads only trouble and heartbreak for the woman stupid enough to play the roles of victim, counselor and advisor accordingly to feed balm to the imagined hurt. There is no way a man like this can be strong mentally and emotionally. He will only handicap the woman unfortunate enough to fall for the “ I-am-so-sensitive” shit. And no, no, never the lover, because such a man is too obsessed with himself and his own to feel anything real of magnitude and significance, and sex can’t be too earth-shattering or fulfilling either because of his inherent insecurities and acute self-consciousness of perceived inadequacies. Unless the money makes all the difference.

Anyhow, as a result of assiduously adhering to the textual characterisation, the movie, which is about the humble beginnings of Batman and the very intimate process of transition, ends up faulting itself by being too truthful, and lost me forever.

I am probably projecting my own preferences (oh I am, I am) but it is understandable. For I’m so tired of the superhero who is also insanely human, has his little irritating foilbles and bothersome emotional issues with his soft side. Give me a real macho man who I can count on in life and death, and who I can have absolute trust and faith in. Spiderman, Superman, Mr Incredible, none of them make the cut. I want the simple, straightforward and base – chuck the mask and costume. Plain tough, plain rough and play hardball will do very fine, thank you. No mind games that will clutter and confuse, please.

And so Sin City, that’s the wholly different story. I love the compelling characterization steeped in gritty film noir tradition. The eerily destructive but oh-so-seductive raw masculinity pouring out from every pixel and pore, is accentuated by black and white only-s, with the occasional indulgent splashes of red-s, gold-s and blue-s to contrast against the stark surliness and grimness that is the men (well, Nick Stahl lost it, so he’s yellow, in The Yellow Bastard, so not quite the man, quite the eunuch). Darkly pensive stories narrated by the very weathered, mature, gruff and low vocals, the voiceovers won me over immediately (and completely), sending delicious shivers up and down (and made me, the word snob, forget how cheesy the lines really are – I just think it’s so cool the way they are sprouting them, that I would actually die from orgasm-inducing narration).

The testosterone overloaded male leads are gorgeously and perfectly cast (yes, I give fuck about Christian Bale). Smouldering Clive Owen has me eating out of his hand already with his charming turn in Closer. Bruce Willis is a bit too old but I’m okay with him in general. But it is the Mickey Rourke who blows me away, whom I have never noticed prior to this hero (not that I know how he actually looks like, I heard his face is buried under a Klingon-like face prosthetic, which is a pity ‘cos I do find the thuggish look he sports in the movie very attractive, pity ain’t his real face, pity my misplaced affections) who just won’t die.

Indestructible – that’s what a man should be (I do find some stereotypes particularly appealing. If I have to be sexist to find them sexy, so be it). Despite being thrillingly tormented, the sinewy, veiny males leads never once falter or hesitate in their desire to protect or seek revenge for their women. Sin City is about love stories amidst the violence, the rot and the darkness in a fractured world ( Women are always angels here – they only moonlight as sluts, whores or strippers, and the men seek them for their redemption) and I have a weakness for love stories, like it is with pumped up, beefy physiques, even if it baffles me why it doesn't quite spill over to real life.

As an aside though, I would love to be in Gail’s position and make those flattering, trusting remarks about Dwight. When her enemies told her it’s all lost, finished, gone, she declared her belief in her lover, that he’ll come back for her and make it right again, and she was not wrong. Make that I’ll love to make such remarks about someone someday. Someone harshly hunky in the signature bold and tyrannical style I so worship.

And so I am a sucker for the people and plot already. The style was flawlessly executed, thus the throbbing visceral ache to see the panel by panel homage unfold in the the most breath-taking manner on the big screen. Jessica Alba is the misfit if I had to nitpick. She is overdressed as her stripper character. Seriously, she just pole dances, and it ain’t even sexy. So it was odd in the context of the whole movie, in which women are either scantily clad in SM wear or nude all the time. Maybe she refuses to strip, which is really an exemplary example of how refusal to do a naked turn can spoil a movie. Now she'll go down in memory as the strange stripper who did not strip.

And special mention must be made of Elijah Wood: even he is manly and intense, for once, thanks to the movie. He is brilliantly chilling, a Harry Potter lookalike gone rabbit (not rabid) mad.

天国的阶梯

十三年前看梁朝伟与吴岱融主演的<<绝代双骄>>， 喜欢的是前者所演的小鱼儿。如今，重看此剧，让我心动的，竟是花无缺。这样的移情或多或少流露出我在某方面的成长和变化。我向往的，不再是古灵精怪的作风，而是可靠踏实的痴和善良体谅的心境。

我感慨，迟迟才拥有这种领悟。原来我喜欢的，未必是我所求。想活得理直气壮还真不简单。我始终是钻牛角尖的。渴望抛开迟疑、焦虑和不安，是需要一个男版的铁心兰让我奋不顾身吗，还是男版的苏樱逗(斗)得我身心交瘁？我，非得有人陪不可吗？ 要是选择一个人上路，真的会如此坎坷？

逃避现实也是种办法， 于是租了<<天国的阶梯>>。

是的，爱情，始终会回来的。彼此相爱的人，即使分开了，终究会走在一起。

明知是剧情，我却深信，因为我目前能做的，也仅不过此。

PS: He's not my type, really, veins aside. 不过，可暂时顶替一下。

The Running For Life Project Part I

April: Took the 1st step towards our marathon goal! But I couldn't finish 5km, think I took almost 40 min just to finish 4km...But I'm glad I now know where I stand.

April: When I'm free tomorrow, I'll go and borrow some books on marathon training. Quite excited about this project! Hope this enthusiasam last more than 5min...Hee!

I received the above sms from dear April at 9.47pm today. In a parallel universe, I was supping at one of my fav haunts, Changi Village at the same time. Rather guilt-ridden as a result.

Oh well. I didn't eat that much.

Anyhow, i shall try to cover the same ground and take my personal timings within the next couple of days. 'Cos apparently, we should be aiming to run 5km non-stop in the initial stage.

Running For Life

So, it’s July now, and I decided to revisit plus re-implement my fitness-to-finesse regime as decided in January. The gym routine didn’t work too well, partly because of all the crazily preening and pruning people that made me feel horribly self-conscious. Fine, and innate inertia cum sheer laziness played a huge part too.

So I thought, okay, we can start again by eating healthy and a lot lesser. Brilliant – so that I can cut down on the exercise.

Boo. Upon consuming 3 slices of fruits and a glass of grapefruit juice, by lunchtime, I had a splitting headache. By evening, I was ready to slip into a comatose. I ate still, really, but in limiting portions, so maybe I should cut less, but not so less, for a start. Whatever it was, I felt better after snacking on 8 tiny cookies in between the jazz concert I was attending. Morals from the story: Eat the kind of breakfast that can last me till lunch. Eat less for lunch and dinner. Still have to exercise. Bah.

The next morning saw me meeting April for a run/walk. We started from Bedok Interchange and visited our alma mater. Then we walked along the highway and headed straight for East Coast. The sunlight was blinding and we ran smack into people participating in the OSIM triathlon. Nevertheless we had a great catch-up session, sharing recent fears and humiliations. With relish, we concluded we needed to find other channels beyond work to ascertain self –worth and achievements. With youthful (as youthful as our age allows) folly and enthusiasm, we aim to start training competitively to join a marathon a year from now and finish in a respectable time. Having nailed on that, we morphed to bimbos from quarter-life crisis plagued individuals and run to Parkway Parade to shop.

I met Minxiu after this and we attempted to scale the MacRithie Tree Top. Not very successful, because we reached the beginnings of the path at 4:59pm. Apparently the treetop is off limits from 5pm onwards. I suspect my companion was secretly pleased. It probably surprised him he was doing such a un-minxiu thing instead of the usual KTV-ing and shopping, and drinking. Still, we did cover about 3-4km and I realized with fondness, I am very attached to the place. Of the times I came, I only blogged once about it. That was when another tried to take me to the treetop but it wasn’t opened yet. So we had to look from afar, that’s all. Hopefully, in the near future, I can actually get there.

Ended up in Ikea for dinner and more shopping.

Oh, the perils of getting physical and getting all riled up about the physique.

Anyhow, here’s a cute post about running:

5 stages of long-distance running:

Anticipation
Amazement
Despair
Deceit
Relief/Terminal

Stage 1 - Anticipation
This stage starts when the body realizes it is been dragged out for long-distance running. It may begin while you are brushing your teeth, or only while you are warming up. Your body seems energized, and ready to go. Your mind is focused on the sole objective of completing the long run. This stage will generally last a few minutes into the run.

Stage 2 - Amazement
This stage creeps in as you start running, and as anticipation tapers off. It’s when your inner voice goes, “What the?! I have to run for another 1 hour and 50 minutes like this?!!” This stage will last approximately 5 seconds.

Stage 3 - Despair
As amazement wears off, despair looms over your mind and your leg’s gears shift down one. You hunch and have a overwhelming depressing aura. Other joggers avoid you as it is generally thought that this stage is contractable by proximity to the sufferer fool. This stage lasts for a long long time.

Stage 4 - Deceit
A natural immune response to Despair. The mind now attempts to convince itself that “the next round we will stop ok?”. And as each round comes to a close, the mind goes, “ok another round?”. Repeat Stage 3.

Stage 5 - Relief/Terminal
A sense of euphoria. This stage could be a sign that the run has been completed or you have just suffered a heart attack and are in heaven. It cannot be distinguished between the two. This stage lasts until the body finds a bed.

Yups. That's how my thoughts go whenever I start on the run and exercise.

Re-Revelations

I noticed that all the gatherings, if we managed to get gathered together, are initiated and executed by guys.

Like seriously.

Cases in point:
(1) Minxiu’s birthday as spent in a hotel, with some people I haven’t seen in years

(2) The weekly late night suppers (every Friday) at Blk 85 market gulping bak chor mee – faithfully attended by the four guys, and the odd girl(s) occasionally.

(3) My Dunman High 2i gathering - thanks to Yaoqiang

(4) My upcoming Yu Neng Primary gathering (second one this year) – Jiaming and I thought it would be grand to have another non-cerebral and non-constructive reason to celebrate and cheer and meet – so we bugged Tuyi to organize one since he did the previous and got us in the mood for attending loving, lovely gatherings in succession. So voila a midnight email announcement

(5) My other primary school – Gongshang Primary – You can’t beat this. These guys planned and marinated and cooked, and pushed me out of the kitchen for our last gathering. All I had to do was to sit and wait for food to be served. Really. After they gave me the token thing to make myself useful – water the plants. Like WTF.

(6) I use to plan my Gongshang ones but then I lost my phone and all precious numbers. Met Jarvis recently and he said anytime I want a gathering just call him, and he’ll gather – himself. At most, to throw in Weiming. That’s ‘cos we all live within walking distance of the school and therefore a stone’s throw away from one another. Guess that’ll have to do till I fortuitously bump into everyone else. Anyhow, my point is – note Jarvis’ enthusiasm. His exact words: Whenever you like lah… I everyday also can…Well, haha. I love hanging out with people you grew up with. No matter how long you have been apart, some kind of natural naivety just takes over when you meet, and you settle into a comfortable rhythm so easily. No qualms or queasiness at all about thinking twice and then again, before you sms or hit that “send” email button. But I digress.

Now back to guys initiating and planning gatherings – I find that quite a refreshing (retributive) change from the school days when I recall it was girls doing all the work, and few guys turning up. Correct me if I’m mistaken, but is that your experience and recollection too?

It seems the table have been totally turned. Guys are organizing and the number of guys attending always overwhelmingly exceeds that of the other sex. I wonder why. Like for (6), I was the only girl! But then again, I used to be pretty close to the guys in my class. Still, are the girls more zhong se qing you; are the guys nostalgic for something? As it is, Am I too free??

Resounding no to the last question, that’s for sure. Whatever. I’m really happy that there are those of us who still gather, gather, gather.

*

The Few-Words movie reviews

Eros (a set of phrases for each vignette in order of appearance):

The Hand: sultry, pensive, wistful, elusive (referring to longings, desires), broken dreams and personalities

Equilibrium: strange, voyeuristic, hyper & meta-hypocritical, deceitful characters

The Dangerous Thread of Things: pseudo complex love triangle, heavily mocking of philosophy, language and modern love, albeit totally unintentional in its intent, gratuitous (yet ungratifying to audience) sex and happy, crazed masturbation, possibly feminist in nature since ending shows the two female leads (who had, in separate occasions, had sex with the male lead, unknowingly so to each other, of course) in close proximity, staring at each other, entirely nude on the beach, in utter, utter fascination. Camera focus for a minute or so and ended as such. Please see Minxiu's complementary review.

Other than Wong Kar Wai, it's darn obvious the other directors have no clue what the pleasure principle is all about. Maybe they are exploring the death drive on purely un-freudian terms, yup literally driving the audience up the wall.

Initial D: 黄秋生 - 'nuff said. But Edison Chen comes a close second. And the romance factor is Pui. Jay Chou is so immature to cast aside his crush when he found out she's an escort. Din even bother to clear and end things proper.

A Lot Like Love: I like the premise. But like the way I appreciate the premise leading to Jeux D'enfants, the storytelling was disappointing, because I already have the ideal scenarios played out in my head. The premise had so much potential, it's tragic the directors failed to milk the full worth. Someday, I shall film my version of dare and daring as well as the dangerous crossover from friendship to love and back again, of the so much that is left unspoken, of the people who left, that leavens the despair of never able to leave it all behind.

Batman Begins: *Yawns* I like Tim Burtion's rendition and Michael Keaton best.

Anyhow, having ran out of movies to watch, I turned to theatre for my weekly escapism from real life. I caught Verena Tay's 3 Women. It was essentially a re-production, this time self-directed and starring herself as opposed to the earlier version (selling gimmick being 3 men directing 3 women). I din watch the original, so I can't compare. But. It certainly wasn't fantastic, dialogue or acting or direction or plot wise. My neuroses are more captivating and yes, I would have done a far better job. Then again, watching such that you deemed less good than you had presumed to be is comforting, you know. That some people can be on stage, that some others can be published, and you think, why not me, esp when i'm obviously more talented. Hopefully this narcissistic re-revelation kicks ass and you get moving. Live now and well.