Arbor Vitae

想家的无奈…..

So I zip in to work today, customary bubble tea clutched in one hand and bag in the other, running a little behind as usual.

That was when the interrogation began.

H: WHAT is that you’re drinking Michelle?

M: Oh, er, it’s bubble tea.

H: Bubbles? As in like…fizzy?

M: Er, no. Bubbles as in these things here   *Prods a pearl with my straw for added emphasis*

H: Yeah, by the way, what ARE those things?

M: They’re these chewy round things made from cassava extract         *Yeah, I wikipedia-d it, so sue me. I swear I only did it because 1. I was darned bored  2. I decided to find out if I was addicted to bubble tea because of some mysterious extra ingredient that went into those pearls*   =)

H: What’s cassava?

M: Er, I think it’s a kind of plant.

H: Oh.

M: Ummm….yeah.

H: Why are the pearls black?

M: I don’t know   *sweats*

H: They look scary.

M: I guess they do. But they taste nice - kinda like gummy bears.

H: But I don’t like gummy bears. And, well, I was about to say they looked like………..

M: Frog spawn?   *Having never tasted frog spawn, I thought I’d be impervious to all comparisons involving this substance*   =P

H: Er, no….fish eyes actually.

M: Fish eyes? As in poke-the-fish-in-its-eye-to-ascertain-its-freshness kinda fish eye?  *sweats*

H: Yeah, kinda. Did I put you off your drink?  *Looks penitent*

M: Oh, it’s ok.  *sweats*

Oh bloody curly-wurlies, why did my yoghurt milk tea start tasting distinctly fishy/metallic after that conversation?

But fret not, I managed to choke down all the pearls. Yes sirree, every last one of them, fish-eyes or not  =)

The chunky rhino crushed that lissom antelope in a 63-minute double setter.

All hail Serena and better luck next time to poor Maria Sharapova!

Yes, yes, I have realised the problem, indeed I have - simply that the mise en scene is not right.

It should be hot days and humid nights, not silent hours and empty rooms.

Home.

天 气 炎 热 许 久 过 后，今 天 突 然 下 了 一 场 大 雨。

这 提 醒 自 己，一 切 都 有 极 点。

再 见，自 由，再 见。 

In the spirit of cheering myself up, this is what I’ve resorted to.

Oh yeah. My situation is that dire.

It might be a little ludicrous, but in my case, comic relief is sorely needed.

And what do you do when said comic relief happens to fall plop into your lap in the form of this video? You amuse yourself by playing it three four times in a row. Just for kicks. Small things for small minds I know 

Be warned, for this video contains distorted vocals, bad, bad dancing and what seems to be an unnecessary abundance of (male) eye-candy.

It also showcases some completely gratuitous bodice shirt-ripping action ala Fabio in the Mills and Boons paperbacks.

(Btw, these sequences have always made me wonder: do the singlets come pre-ripped or something? I imagine it’d be pretty much impossible to tear off a well-constructed piece of apparel from your body wouldn’t it? Ouch? Carpet burns anyone? Random thought, I know  =)

And includes oodles of seemingly endless and completely pointless fire-twirling (heck, fire-skipping) sequences - but man, there’s nothing like the anticipation of waiting to see if the vocalist does accidentally set her hair extensions alight  =)

Plus some choreography they’ve probably dug out from the deepest, darkest vaults of The Most Notorious Killer Moves of The Eighties or somewhere equally dubious.

Add to the mixture a shot of makeup, hair, wardrobe and special fx that can best be described as Dungeons-and-Dragons meets Your-Grandmother’s-Closet meets The-Circus-of-Runaway-Barechested-Men.

And voila - what you get is comic relief that brings tears (of laughter, not joy) to the eyes.

ps: Thanks goes to C. who dug this video up from some obscure (I hope, for the sake of the general viewing public) corner of YouTube. And who also told me he’d beat my record for viewing this video at seven times straight versus my measly four - for reasons of his very own  =) And who then tried to cheer me up by telling me this was his favourite track to dance to when clubbing. You’d better believe it too  =P

pps: I am much better thank you. But I must warn you, despite having spent a fortune on pharmaceuticals and religiously sneezed, coughed and purged myself every quarter of an hour, I still resemble a very very very wheezy seal. One who’s getting over a serious case of the flu. Hence the doldrums. Hence the need for comic relief. And hence this video  =)

ppps: Yup, the video is still incredibly bad on the fifth viewing. And even the sixth *winks* It’s like watching a car crash really, you don’t want to be there, but you can’t seem to tear your eyes away from the grotesquerie on display either  =)

There are some things that I’m unwilling to admit, even to myself, even in the empty echoing chambers of the mind.

My goddamn pride.

Or would that be an avoidance complex? Innate reticence? Even in admitting this particular sore spot to myself?

I’m probably more screwed up then I thought.

Like: I’m so tired. I can’t do this anymore. Please. I say I will never accede. That’s my pride getting in the way again. But please. Won’t someone come and take me away?

….that the strangest of things are capable of stirring the emotions. 

Perhaps a word, a scrap of dialogue overheard, a fleeting glance, a certain colour glowing against the backdrop of night, the shape of shadows. 

But today, it was this fragment of a sentence that sparked the maelstrom.

….but for a time they were in love….

Inexplicable. Really. Even to myself.

It’s not the clothes that maketh the man.

Nor fine and flowing speech.

Not a hallowed education.

Nor the amount of coin in his pocket.

It’s quiet and unequivocal valour.

Because Wesley Autrey, having risked his life for that of someone he did not know, only had that one comment to make.

Someone buy the man a new hat already  =)

I’m feeling somewhat……nebulous at the moment.

But this I don’t feel nebulous about:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Alhambra-m.jpg

I want to run away.