526 simple things satisfy simple minds

one good thing about the end of may – the sales are here! sad to say there was a fruitless shopping trip with my mum on thursday even though she was very willing to buy me stuff, we went back empty-handed anyway. but the rest of the shops in town are vaguely on sale and that makes me happy! and CK is 50% off till 28 may so everyone should go see! even though it was pretty messed up by the time i got there… and i’m desperately waiting for ninewest to go on sale because i’m going to get that pair of heels somehow – even if it isn’t in time for my cousin’s wedding. it’s now my mission to find a cheaper version of that design so i don’t have to pay so much for it in case i can’t convince my mum to get it for me. i don’t even know if i can walk in them. ha. though it was pretty funny standing in them and trying to see if i was taller than the boy (evidently not) and realising that he’s actually taller than i thought he was. oops.

i’m running my bank account to a new low. i just divested myself of quite a tidy sum of money because of J.’s return from the US with my things, i bought two new tops, and i just spent $50 bucks on a drama serial vcd. oh yes. i never thought i’d fall into this trap – buying the entire vcd series! and it’s not even a japanese or korean drama – it’s taiwanese! everyone faint now – it’s one of those ou xiang ju! – but ohh, the main actor is seriously yummy. and the storyline is pretty weird but the characters are quirky and the actors have hilarious expressions. it makes me laugh alot (: and it’s pretty sweet, which appeals to stupid people like me, who giggle at this sort of thing. i’m even watching it a second time after finishing all 20 episodes over 2 nights. and yes, i am aware of how uncool i just made myself sound.

all rational thought flies out the window when the great singapore sale is here!

***
in other news, and because i know everyone is just hanging on my decision wrt university (hoho), i’m not going to london after all. i will probably forever regret it, but there are other reasons better left unsaid holding me back. but business/law isn’t such a bad combination yes? (comfort me!) which explains my frantic buying spree recently just to convince myself that staying here is a good idea in the end. but i always believe – when god closes the door, somewhere he opens the window. and i can be satisfied knowing i’ll be doing what i want to be doing with the rest of my life.

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525

i walked around for hours, two ten-pence pieces in my hand
i was alone and freezing, still trying hard to understand you
i left the others knowing, i had to work this by myself
but now the feeling’s growing, i would be better off with their help

so baby, what we’ve got
has lately not been enough, not been enough

i wish i had your scarf still, that once embraced and kept me warm
i wish you could be with me, in these last days when i am hopelessly poor

stay out of trouble, stay in touch
try not to think about me too much

/kings of convenience

524

my mum just bought me a new watch! not that i actually need one since i haven’t really worn a watch seriously since.. forever. mainly because i wear it on my right hand and that’s not really convenient when you’re right-handed and are trying to take notes furiously. but anyway! there’s no school now, and when i start school hopefully there’ll be minimal writing! whatever. i like it (:

there ends my random and pointless post of the day.

p/s: NUS finally replies, and it’s time to think really really hard! it probably works out better in the long run, especially with what they’re offering – which is more than favourable. so i should stop thinking about the stigma that local graduates have and just stay. or not? argh.

523 stuck in a moment you can’t get out of

i don’t remember what it was like to cram segments of my life, my day, into one anecdotal paragraph. it’s all degenerated into random recounting, and i resent that.

in any case i finally got my hands on new books, courtesy of my mum a few days ago, strangely after we had about the greatest fight in our combined existences. i didn’t think it was possible to fight with your mum so much, especially about the same few things we always talk about, but then again it seems that between kids and their parents there is always going to be that limited number of topics we can touch on. and it was one hell of a fight. she’s excited; i’m excited – we’re going off on two different tangents. she’s getting sick of me being indecisive; in fact so am i. and i’m getting very sick of certain organisations refusing to make up their minds.

i was reading michael cunningham on the train today, after braving the afternoon sun across that wide field i always walk across as a shortcut to the MRT station. it was dry, unusually dry – or perhaps i should say surprisingly dry, since the field has been damp and slushy in certain places for the past few weeks despite the sun being its usual cheery and sunny (haha) self. since it’s not always been like that, the slushiness should’ve been a temporary syndrome, but in any case it was abnormally dry today. it’s probably not wise to assume things are always going to be this way from now on.

– where was i? oh, michael cunningham. specimen days is an intriguing novel. i’m not through with it yet, considering the pace at which i read nowadays – i continue to read in large chunks, but i don’t do it very often and i never get anything read during the day. when i was younger i used to spend my holidays (those days where i didn’t go out, anyway) reading away; and when school started my reading got pushed back into the hours of the night when i’d finished my work, finished my chats with people, finished surfing the internet – took a back seat to everything else, really, that wasn’t half as important as i made it out to be. and i missed out on alot of reading time that way. now that i’m on holiday virtually everyday and all i do is loaf around (it’s true), my reading time is still saved for these times of the night when it’s all dark and everyone is sleeping and nobody is going to be there to open the door to my room suddenly and demand why the hell i’m huddled under my comforter in bright daylight when it’s so bloody hot reading a book while i’m lying down, since that’s the only way i read when i’m not on a moving vehicle, in which case i take up both seats with my massive presence and lean against the window with the book hitting the sunlight. and it seems i’ve been sidetracked again, but then again i’ve really not much to tell you about the book, except that certain things are falling into place and the similarities are startling in the most basic and unnerving of ways.

i’ve realised that commuting in singapore these days has taken on craptastic proportions. the crowds at peak hour are amazing, as are their attitudes. it’s never so easy to see the ugly sides of people when they’re all in a rush, all desperate to get ahead, get inside. i swear you can virtually see a half-smile hanging of the lips of the people in the train when the train doors close in on those who are too slow to get in. i thought about alot of things as i was moving along, as i usually do when i’m travelling alone surrounded by people. it always amazes me the way independent thought works, the way thoughts are running through every person’s head, though they’re right next to each other, their minds are so far away. it was peak hour and the doors were closing, the train moving off. it kept going west, going further away, as if running from the darkness, towards the setting sun. some days i imagine the sun is just like a squid. it tries so hard to escape but it can’t, and the only way it does that is squirt out ink so you can’t see anything and then it can run away. and i think of the train and the way we were trying to escape from it, running away before the darkness caught up with us. when i reached, it was still bright; the sun wouldn’t have set for another 15 minutes.

i watched saving private ryan today. it must’ve been a good ten years since that movie came out, maybe slightly less. it was a good movie, though i couldn’t really hear 1/4 of what was being said. but it was good. it was the boy’s virgin drive home today. it wasn’t too bad considering all things, and he did manage to get me home alive. i think driving at night is therapeutic.

522

stop asking me where i’m going! i don’t know and i refuse to repeat the details of my dilemma to people who don’t already know, eeek.

anyway i’m sort of happy. i saw this pair of gorgeous orange-red brocade flats which i really wanted but passed up on, but i landed myself with a bright red pair of heels, which look fantabulous from one side and so-so on the other. (don’t ask why i bought it – i couldn’t resist the colour) also managed to get myself new underwear, which will constitute having all seven colours of the rainbow in my wardrobe (once J. comes back from NY with my things) – i don’t know if that’s really gay or not. let’s not speculate. in other matters of housekeeping my mother also bought me two fluffy new towels! i realised i have a thing for red accessories. if i stay here my car is going to be red too! – if you can call that an accessory, ahahaha.

my cousin’s wedding is coming, and once again i need to foray into that big scary world that is make-up. i wonder if i should just go to someone to do it just for the day or actually buy the damn things so i can use it myself for longer. the thing is, me = total make-up n00b. someone needs to teach me these things. i don’t even know what colour looks nice on me. and i refuse to spend money experimenting! pretty make-up is so expensive. :(

i realised i’m turning into such a random shallow bimbo. arghhhhh >_<

521 you can’t always be torn in two, sam

so, i have about one more week to make a decision. i’ll always remember may 2006 as the time where my life changed. this is a really important and difficult decision… i really don’t mind staying, but just want to go. but going, then again, has so many other things to consider. why on earth did i tell them i didn’t want to do econs? sigh. life’s bleak, it really is.

520

i love weekends, they make me happy (: not to mention the fact that i’ve been eating loads and loads of food – me and I. finally caught up on our xiaolongbao date over lunch on thursday, and i was seriously and disgustingly full after that eating the 346098508 dumplings and drinking lots of tea. went for CAP briefing afterwards, managed to turn myself into a sai kang slave slotting certificates into envelopes. urgh. ran off after that and for dinner i stuffed myself again eating lasagna! eeek.

saturday’s a slow, lazy day for me. it’s been awhile since i’ve spent the whole day at home, though i have to go to church later. the weather’s been pretty nice and cooperative and it’s good to just snuggle into the sheets and feel happy (: though i’m seriously feeling very very stoned and my expression the whole day has been like this, which i know seriously annoys RM hahaha:

yesterday was fun, though the boy and i pretty much did nothing except wake up late and call each other to wake up, searching all over town for a silly computer game and realising that over the hedge doesn’t open till next week. after skipping lunch and stumbling into toys ‘r’ us, we descended on a cafe right below and ate!

you see the thing about the boy is that he can’t smile in pictures unless he laughs before that, so the smile is genuine. and hence this picture opportunity came at a wonderful time:

the later part of the night was spent with D.! where we bumped into HX at cafe iguana, where the whole world seems to go just because the drinks are cheap during happy hour. but it was good fun, we talked about alot of rubbish, and took obligatory drunken-disaster pictures along the bridge while sitting there:



HAPPY CAMPERS!

crazy little thing called love

it cries, in a cradle all night
it swings, it jives
it shakes all over like a jellyfish
i kinda like it
/queen

they say the first sign that you’re crazy is when you start believing in things you shouldn’t be seeing. or knowing, or hearing about. it’s a hypothetical vase of roses that remind you, very clearly, of the way your dead wife used to smell, sitting right outside there in your living room. you hide in your room because you can smell it and you don’t want to. you’d think, maybe you should go out and get rid of the roses, so you can be a normal person and use your damn living room. but to go out means you acknowledge the roses are there, that your wife is dead, and the million other things you try to forget – and the roses, very clearly, don’t exist except in your head. it’s the way someone knocks on your door, very insistently, but you never answer it even though that person screams at you to let her in, because you know who it is and in a world where you are sane, this person would never talk to you within an inch of your life, or be interested in the slightest bit – and hence could not possibly be hammering away on your door as if she cared at all. but things get easier. you know you can’t possibly be sane when you admit you’re crazy. when you’re crazy you get used to hallucinations, to things that go wrong, that are not normal, that aren’t the way you think they should be. and the first sign a crazy person is becoming sane again is when he begins to accept that not everything that happens to him is out of the ordinary and therefore impossible, because to believe something is impossible and yet have it occur right in front of your eyes is bound to drive anyone crazy. things get easier when you get used to them. and slowly – it becomes easy to forget. and the pain of loss morphs into something else. first you forget the little things. you forget what she used to drink for breakfast, what kind of cereal she used to eat. you forget if she’s allergic to milk, you forget how hot the water should be when she runs a bath. you forget the way she reads newspapers back to front, the way she takes off her ring to shower, what kind of underwear she wore, what size shirt she liked. you forget whether she preferred slacks to skirts, whether she liked them short or long, did she like heels, could she walk in them, did she have flat feet, was she up early in the morning? then you begin to forget the way she held you, or kissed you, or sang. you begin to forget how her hands feel like, how her laughter rings out. you begin to forget how she tastes like, how she smells like. then you forget the important things, the things that are a part of you – your body forgets the way it responds to her. your body forgets what it felt like to be near her. you begin to forget the jump in your heart when she smiles, the way you smile when you see her. you begin to forget how you cried when she was not here, you begin to forget how you’ve been hurt. and slowly you remember less. slowly you are moved by less. slowly you are used to less. and when you remember this is what you thought at the beginning was impossible and out of the ordinary, you know you’ve come out of that dreamworld.

forget everything. forget the laughter, forget the pain. when you first meet you remember everything – the hair, the smell, the face, the smile, those small little actions that distinguish one human being from another, the quirk, the self-conscious look away, the shy downcast eyes. you remember the adrenaline rush, what it means to be happy, how it feels to be loved, the exact point where two people meet and feel a spark. you remember colours and sounds and sights and smells, as if the other person were a holiday spot and you were there for the first time. exploring, like a tourist, the underbelly, i might say, pardon the pun. subtle jibes, poking around to see if we find anything new, anything familiar, anything similar, anything comforting. more often we look for similarities so we make ourselves feel better. it blossoms into something else. accompanied by a sense of wonder, the exploration takes on massive proportions. some part of it is where no one else can go, places in your brain, places in your body, places where everything and nothing is private, places you’ve never let people into before – your mind, your heart, your body, your presence. some part of it is so special and treasured it takes awhile to get in. it becomes a place where good things grow, clearly it’s not all a bed of roses – things don’t get better, neither do they get worse, but the road is always – easier, more manageable, easier to overcome, to cross, to get over, easier to cherish, to let go of, easier to remember, much easier to forget.

518 crazy little thing called love

it cries, in a cradle all night
it swings, it jives
it shakes all over like a jellyfish
i kinda like it
/queen

they say the first sign that you’re crazy is when you start believing in things you shouldn’t be seeing. or knowing, or hearing about. it’s a hypothetical vase of roses that remind you, very clearly, of the way your dead wife used to smell, sitting right outside there in your living room. you hide in your room because you can smell it and you don’t want to. you’d think, maybe you should go out and get rid of the roses, so you can be a normal person and use your damn living room. but to go out means you acknowledge the roses are there, that your wife is dead, and the million other things you try to forget – and the roses, very clearly, don’t exist except in your head. it’s the way someone knocks on your door, very insistently, but you never answer it even though that person screams at you to let her in, because you know who it is and in a world where you are sane, this person would never talk to you within an inch of your life, or be interested in the slightest bit – and hence could not possibly be hammering away on your door as if she cared at all. but things get easier. you know you can’t possibly be sane when you admit you’re crazy. when you’re crazy you get used to hallucinations, to things that go wrong, that are not normal, that aren’t the way you think they should be. and the first sign a crazy person is becoming sane again is when he begins to accept that not everything that happens to him is out of the ordinary and therefore impossible, because to believe something is impossible and yet have it occur right in front of your eyes is bound to drive anyone crazy. things get easier when you get used to them. and slowly – it becomes easy to forget. and the pain of loss morphs into something else. first you forget the little things. you forget what she used to drink for breakfast, what kind of cereal she used to eat. you forget if she’s allergic to milk, you forget how hot the water should be when she runs a bath. you forget the way she reads newspapers back to front, the way she takes off her ring to shower, what kind of underwear she wore, what size shirt she liked. you forget whether she preferred slacks to skirts, whether she liked them short or long, did she like heels, could she walk in them, did she have flat feet, was she up early in the morning? then you begin to forget the way she held you, or kissed you, or sang. you begin to forget how her hands feel like, how her laughter rings out. you begin to forget how she tastes like, how she smells like. then you forget the important things, the things that are a part of you – your body forgets the way it responds to her. your body forgets what it felt like to be near her. you begin to forget the jump in your heart when she smiles, the way you smile when you see her. you begin to forget how you cried when she was not here, you begin to forget how you’ve been hurt. and slowly you remember less. slowly you are moved by less. slowly you are used to less. and when you remember this is what you thought at the beginning was impossible and out of the ordinary, you know you’ve come out of that dreamworld.

forget everything. forget the laughter, forget the pain. when you first meet you remember everything – the hair, the smell, the face, the smile, those small little actions that distinguish one human being from another, the quirk, the self-conscious look away, the shy downcast eyes. you remember the adrenaline rush, what it means to be happy, how it feels to be loved, the exact point where two people meet and feel a spark. you remember colours and sounds and sights and smells, as if the other person were a holiday spot and you were there for the first time. exploring, like a tourist, the underbelly, i might say, pardon the pun. subtle jibes, poking around to see if we find anything new, anything familiar, anything similar, anything comforting. more often we look for similarities so we make ourselves feel better. it blossoms into something else. accompanied by a sense of wonder, the exploration takes on massive proportions. some part of it is where no one else can go, places in your brain, places in your body, places where everything and nothing is private, places you’ve never let people into before – your mind, your heart, your body, your presence. some part of it is so special and treasured it takes awhile to get in. it becomes a place where good things grow, clearly it’s not all a bed of roses – things don’t get better, neither do they get worse, but the road is always – easier, more manageable, easier to overcome, to cross, to get over, easier to cherish, to let go of, easier to remember, much easier to forget.

517

since i’m clearly really bored, this is going on my wedding finger next time (:

yesyes, it’s probably not even shiny, and it’s gold and obiang, but eh, gold is underrated okay.

elections 2006

you know i don’t know how to solve alot of things. the time in which i have to wait for this page to load is already enough time to make me forget half the things i’ve wanted to say. and then it goes on and on, and some things change. while i was half-stoned on a couch lying there with D. in silence somewhere in rochalie drive i was thinking about my life. how many things have i forgotten? and how many things will i forget? someday i’ll remember what it was like to be the old me, the lonely me – and lonely is such a vague word, it’s got too many different meanings for us – when i was walking around all alone by myself. silence – you know there’s a place in your head no one can touch, where you can go by yourself and pace all alone, that space that is all yours. in between thinking and more thinking there is a void in which people just feel empty, so empty, so dishearteningly unfilled.

there’re so many people, and their lives move on without you, as if you don’t matter at all. you bump into each other once in awhile and you repeat the same few topics of conversation as you have been with every other person, and always specific to the time of day and time of year, till you wonder if there really isn’t anything else you can talk about. in past years there were times when i stayed up in the night not knowing what time it was, drinking myself crazy just because i felt like it, hoping desperately i’d have the guts to pick up the phone and call somebody. in past years there were times when i felt the need to talk to someone so badly but there really was no one. there really is no punishment like feeling totally isolated, totally alone without anyone to depend on or call on for help when you need to, when you feel like it. but to do so is to take those people for granted, as if they owe you something, as if they owe it to you to be there when you want them to be. and everyone’s got their own lives to lead. and slowly i learnt to let go of alot of things, things about other people and myself, things that shouldn’t matter. in past years where schooltime pleasantries ended when the bell rang – i lived alone. and now when i’ve got everything i possibly need – something is missing. i can’t explain it, and i don’t know what it is, and somehow that emptiness is back as my life looms before me with all the decisions i have to make, decisions that matter so greatly to me but mean nothing to others, how my troubles are magnified a thousand times in my memory but are of no paramount importance? i think about the choices i have to make and while i’m lucky to have these choices, my indecision seems so insignificant.

in HY’s house today D. commented how every year people go to HY’s house and people change. people slim down, people grow taller, look better, have different haircuts, next year people go overseas, no one will be here, and god knows when the next party will be. and everyone goes there by association – so-and-so’s girlfriend, friend of friend, OCS mate, GEP, somewhere related. it’s funny how it can be totally fulfilling, having three birthday cakes when people have none, and yet it can be totally empty – because you know these people less than you want to, or even more than you want to. maybe i’m thinking too much.

as usual i always have a more coherent and elegiac post in my head than what comes out here, but i’m just too tired to write it so that people don’t know what i’m talking about.

take me to the magic of the moment
on a glory night
where the children of tomorrow dream away
in the winds of change
/scorpions

it’s not fun. it’s not a matter of fun. you vote for something because you believe in it, because you feel as if it means something. it’s not because it’s fashionable to throw in your lot with the anti-establishment as a rock in the face for the ruling party. today i attended the victory parade for marine parade GRC (okay i didn’t really, since i had to leave before it even started) which hardly seemed victorious because, you know, it was a walkover. in any case i still find it hard to identify with the lightning people; maybe it’s not done anything for me, or i still find myself disenchanted, or god forbid, because it’s uncool to like them, maybe because i think it’s stupid to hold a little flag and go ‘whee PAP’ whenever they go by. they’ve won again, but things are changing. and i take back what i said about this elections not being news – it really was pretty exciting. luckily (or not) for me, the aljunied side was heavily contested and so what i told my law interviewers wasn’t too inaccurate a prediction. so once again i am saved by the invisible hand! so adam smith.

anyway, i still think the PAP logo looks like harry potter’s scar.

516 the freedom bell for peace of mind

take me to the magic of the moment
on a glory night
where the children of tomorrow dream away
in the winds of change
/scorpions

it’s not fun. it’s not a matter of fun. you vote for something because you believe in it, because you feel as if it means something. it’s not because it’s fashionable to throw in your lot with the anti-establishment as a rock in the face for the ruling party. today i attended the victory parade for marine parade GRC (okay i didn’t really, since i had to leave before it even started) which hardly seemed victorious because, you know, it was a walkover. in any case i still find it hard to identify with the lightning people; maybe it’s not done anything for me, or i still find myself disenchanted, or god forbid, because it’s uncool to like them, maybe because i think it’s stupid to hold a little flag and go ‘whee PAP’ whenever they go by. they’ve won again, but things are changing. and i take back what i said about this elections not being news – it really was pretty exciting. luckily (or not) for me, the aljunied side was heavily contested and so what i told my law interviewers wasn’t too inaccurate a prediction. so once again i am saved by the invisible hand! so adam smith.

anyway, i still think the PAP logo looks like harry potter’s scar.

515

you know i don’t know how to solve alot of things. the time in which i have to wait for this page to load is already enough time to make me forget half the things i’ve wanted to say. and then it goes on and on, and some things change. while i was half-stoned on a couch lying there with D. in silence somewhere in rochalie drive i was thinking about my life. how many things have i forgotten? and how many things will i forget? someday i’ll remember what it was like to be the old me, the lonely me – and lonely is such a vague word, it’s got too many different meanings for us – when i was walking around all alone by myself. silence – you know there’s a place in your head no one can touch, where you can go by yourself and pace all alone, that space that is all yours. in between thinking and more thinking there is a void in which people just feel empty, so empty, so dishearteningly unfilled.

there’re so many people, and their lives move on without you, as if you don’t matter at all. you bump into each other once in awhile and you repeat the same few topics of conversation as you have been with every other person, and always specific to the time of day and time of year, till you wonder if there really isn’t anything else you can talk about. in past years there were times when i stayed up in the night not knowing what time it was, drinking myself crazy just because i felt like it, hoping desperately i’d have the guts to pick up the phone and call somebody. in past years there were times when i felt the need to talk to someone so badly but there really was no one. there really is no punishment like feeling totally isolated, totally alone without anyone to depend on or call on for help when you need to, when you feel like it. but to do so is to take those people for granted, as if they owe you something, as if they owe it to you to be there when you want them to be. and everyone’s got their own lives to lead. and slowly i learnt to let go of alot of things, things about other people and myself, things that shouldn’t matter. in past years where schooltime pleasantries ended when the bell rang – i lived alone. and now when i’ve got everything i possibly need – something is missing. i can’t explain it, and i don’t know what it is, and somehow that emptiness is back as my life looms before me with all the decisions i have to make, decisions that matter so greatly to me but mean nothing to others, how my troubles are magnified a thousand times in my memory but are of no paramount importance? i think about the choices i have to make and while i’m lucky to have these choices, my indecision seems so insignificant.

in HY’s house today D. commented how every year people go to HY’s house and people change. people slim down, people grow taller, look better, have different haircuts, next year people go overseas, no one will be here, and god knows when the next party will be. and everyone goes there by association – so-and-so’s girlfriend, friend of friend, OCS mate, GEP, somewhere related. it’s funny how it can be totally fulfilling, having three birthday cakes when people have none, and yet it can be totally empty – because you know these people less than you want to, or even more than you want to. maybe i’m thinking too much.

as usual i always have a more coherent and elegiac post in my head than what comes out here, but i’m just too tired to write it so that people don’t know what i’m talking about.

514 quote of the day

“Repression, Sir is a habit that grows. I am told it is like making love – it is always easier the second time! The first time there may be pangs of conscience, a sense of guilt. But once embarked on this course with constant repetition you get more and more brazen in the attack. All you have to do is to dissolve organizations and societies and banish and detain the key political workers in these societies. Then miraculously everything is tranquil on the surface. Then an intimidated press and the government-controlled radio together can regularly sing your praises, and slowly and steadily the people are made to forget the evil things that have already been done, or if these things are referred to again they’re conveniently distorted and distorted with impunity, because there will be no opposition to contradict.”

– Lee Kuan Yew as an opposition PAP member speaking to David Marshall, Singapore Legislative Assembly, Debates, 4 October, 1956

513 i’ll edit this some other time

in a miraculous feat i’ve not been able to accomplish all of this year (and the last, and maybe the year before last), i’ve managed to vaguely make two people upset today. right now my response to that is whatever. i’m sure i’ll get over thinking about myself first one day.

i have pictures, but maybe later.

512 my weekend

i don’t remember what i did on saturday.

sunday’s law test was pretty good. then we spent 5 hours at bedok jetty talking rubbish and eating lots and lots of food as usual:

monday was spent getting a haircut (finally heh), having lunch with the family and watching election 2 as well as mirrormask back-to-back. both were pretty good; but mirrormask seemed abit drowsy – apt, i guess, and totally graphic-novelish, and election 2 was mind-bendingly violent though i kept making random and irrelevant comments during those scenes.