Becoming Angelinesque

Becoming Jane was rather awful and an utter blasphemy to my fond memory of Mr Darcy. Fine, so Mr Darcy is fictional and Becoming Jane was really an imaginary confection of Jane Austen the author’s life instead of Elizabeth Bennet, thus there is no reason for me to be affronted by Tom Lefroy who, in real-life, purportedly inspired the definitive literary heartthrob that is Mr Darcy (thanks to Colin Firth who IS Mr Darcy come to life in the 1996 BBC TV version). But, I was still horribly mollified. A preposterously presumptuous movie that took on too many liberties, including the miscasting of Austen and Lefroy, on top of a pedestrian plot and a doubtful love – doubtful meaning the point building up to a mutual attraction between Austen and Lefroy was badly developed and I couldn’t care less about this so-called relationship that was nipped in the bud! Austen was ridiculously flighty, annoyingly defensive and crazily insecure. Lefroy was some random playboy who just decided suddenly he was in love with Jane after she took the initiative to kiss him (!?). Boo to lousy story-telling.

Sob. I was suggesting to watch Charlie Bartlett but Minxiu was in the mood for love, plus I didn’t think it would be so bad, so. And throughout the movie, I had to keep reminding myself to manage my expectations, simply because this is NOT Pride & Prejudice, but I was sadly prejudiced against it from the start. Minxiu just didn’t feel anything, having never read the book and hence, had no idea what Mr Darcy and Elizabeth should be like, or rather what Austen and Lefroy should be like as derived from her literary style. Good lor, then you made me sit through this unfunny joke of an adaptation.

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I just got my pay cheque for the month. Whee. Shall be decadent and indulgent this weekend to reward myself for working so damn hard all week. Doing a hair spa later today and hanging out with Huxin and Ezo in the evening. Massage tomorrow with Minchao followed by a long, lazy, leisure lunch at Holland V to chill, then KTV, then looking forward to an excellent dinner, with all good intentions of training for my night marathon hurled out of the window. I’m usually too tired and hungry to run these days. But I will work on that.

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Mr Dimples sms-ed me during lunch hour on Thursday to ask me how I am and how my new job is. For documentation purposes, let me state here he can never be Mr Darcy, even though he might have not-so-secret aspirations once upon a time and realised the futility of it after a while.

And to quote myself in an earlier post: I’m really no different from the Beckys, Dorotheas or Madame Bovarys inhabiting and imbibing The Novel. They who think they are heroines of another breed and so richly deserve to be saved. After all, there can only be one Elizabeth and one Mr Darcy. Trying to seek solace in literature, whether it’s the English or French novel, is the pathway to ruin. I’m halfway there with my penchant to ruminate excessively.

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On a less sombre note, I saw Pam in the Thursday’s Urban and Friday’s Life! LOL! She underreported her age by 4 years. She’s from my batch in DHS so go figure. But I do think it’s cool she’s pursuing her acting dreams.

Hey Jude: We Have Taken A Sad Song & Made It Better

I logged onto Facebook and saw in my Newsfeed that he had changed his non-status to being in a relationship and I can honestly say I am past the stage of caring, not even the pseudo sort that I have a tendency to will myself to feel when I’m bored. And there is no room for boredom anymore. With a new career taking me where I want to go, I am seriously excited about the potential and promise of it. There are so many things to learn and do that I find myself smiling a lot these days. Oh yes, my work is damn great, the place is fabulous and all dignity and passion rightfully reinstated in the most fairy-tale way possible.

I met Jude for lunch on Friday, after an abstinence of 3 years in which we lost complete contact, and of course Facebook reunited us. We were very pleased to learn of each other’s present happiness. The affinity and affection ensued and lasted from common nasty encounters of the work kind but we can so laugh them off now. After all, I have my dream job and he is opening his design firm.

Seeing Jude was surreal, especially in such pleasurable and relaxed context. The big brother he is, artfully combines ambition and passion with laidback simplicity and makes everything look so easy. He says he doesn’t do anything apart from living, breathing design with his wife, and I believe him. He brought along his portfolio (accumulated after we lost touch) to show me and I am proud that my friend is so talented to win those international ad awards. Then I let him listen to a song I wrote.

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On a quite separate note, I think I’m too smart for my own good, especially when it comes to relationships. So I shall only accept simple applications henceforth. Two complex persons would drive each other up the wall with egos and second-guessing. Now where can I find a 1.8m Japanese look-alike gentle giant with wavy hair and stubble who is always good-tempered and shares my passion for words? Yes, I’m tired of veins and dimples and shall totally delete them from the wanted list. In fact, it would be a plus to not have them.

Jude, radiating zen happiness in my favourite Kuriya restaurant. I love how his eyes crinkle and it's impossible not to be affected by his loopy grin. Big brother insisted on buying me so I shall make him the gigolo the next time we meet.