Easy as pi

I see why people have children. There's no one easier in the world to impress, at least until they turn 16 or so. Then you get a dog.

Cousin (12 years old): Hey, do you like Justin Bieber?
Second cousin (around the same age): *giggles*
Me: Do I like Justin Bieber?
Cousin: Yeh.
Me: No, I don't go for young girls.
Second cousin: EPIC COMMENT. OH.

How things change

A nostalgic-like thread developed during a FaceBook discussion the other day:

"blablabla Boyz II Men bla."
"Oh, NKOTB were the bomb I heard they're on the cruise ship tour circuit now (or maybe that was the Backstreet Boys)."
"OH boybands... I really loved those BSB fellas..."
"Mmm, JC Chasez."

In the evening, I had to wait in the car for a bit while Enfant Terrible got ready for dinner. The new Justine Bieber song (Boyfriend*) was playing.

It was redolent of, dare I type it, sexy feel. My external auditory meatus was swamped by the sexy feel. I was simultaneously intrigued and creeped out. Intrigued because here was Canada's #1 one-man boyband sounding sexy, creeped out because he is (only) 18 years old.

This young man is confusingly pretty. Image from The Justin Bieber Shrine

Things have not changed at all. Young, good-looking men are still making sexy faces and sounds that throw old(er) girls like me for a loop and think they're way too young to be behaving like that (though they're clearly not).

Suddenly, I have a rudimentary understanding of the desire to be forever young. The candy-colored everything, the predilection for impossibly tiny and delicate delicacies like rainbow-hued macarons, the entire concept of precious behavior. All aim at preserving the feeling of youthfulness.

I might be being melodramatic, but think about it: those who really go for that stuff, i.e., if they're all "OMGWTFBBQ<3<3<3" in real life, they might tell you they're 28 years old 5 years in a row.

* Entirely different and infinitely better than the one by Big Time Rush**
** Don't know what else they've done, but I had a hell of a difficult time looking them up.

Differs from expectations

It was Enfant Terrible's idea to watch Prometheus*.

"Why do you want to watch Prometheus?" I asked.
"Because it's a space movie."

Upon reflection, watching Prometheus because "it's a space movie" is like watching the Rocky Horror Picture Show because you want a little song and dance.

*Verdict: Had its moments, but left the audience largely unfulfilled, even despite the presence of Heimdall, Aeon Flux, the original Lisbeth Salander, a Tom Hardy lookalike, and the requisite number of light humor/cannon fodder peripheral characters.

Freedom

Charlie thought life outside the factory would be paradise. Charlie was wrong.

Unanswered

The applause at the Mutua Madrilena Masters in Madrid, Spain, was drowned out by the volume of whining about the horrible, nasty blue clay coming from sterling examples such as Rafael Nadal and Novak Djokovic.

Now that the dust has settled (ahem), I'm curious: did the ladies play on another surface at the WTA Masters Open in Madrid? Because I don't recall reading about Victoria Azarenka vowing never ever ever to return to play on that slippery-ass blue stuff ever again. Nor do I remember Serena Williams complaining that it's only a matter of time before players get hurt.

All I remember is Roger Federer the eventual men's winner posing, somewhat bemusedly, with Will Smith and the latter's suit from Men in Black 2.

System purge required

I watched The Avengers. Developed a compulsion. This link is not helping:

The best bit in Thor 

It's like cat videos, but a million times better.

Perception

Sometimes, I wonder if we've fallen into a relationship rut and whether Enfant Terrible sees me as just someone who's there.

Then we watch Thor and he tries to block my view of Chris Hemsworth strutting around and practically bursting out of those black Levi's and I know it's all good.

Oh, honey, put that away; you're gonna have someone's eye out. (Image from fanpop)

Life as we know it

Strange but true:

Malaysians spend countless hours on "social networking" in the hopes of meeting that One True Person with whom they want to spend their life with.

This, in comparison to setting aside about 30 minutes each March/April to figure out how they've spent their earnings over the last fiscal year (assuming you're simple like me). 

These people will actually find someone to communicate with, and soon prepare self and same for a breathlessly awaited visit/gift from The One.

They are also only too happy to help The One/gift from The One enter the country by paying the customs tax/what-have-you that the evil Customs Department has arbitrarily imposed on the diamond ring/laptop/collector's item animal/The One to the tune of thousands, if not tens of thousands of their own hard-earned money.

This, instead of the final tax amount payable to their own country, which is paltry by comparison.

Of course, the promised item/One doesn't show up ever because it was all a scam. The swindle will make the newspapers again, and I will have to read that instead of some delicious gossip involving a naked celebrity and delectable items of food.

And please let's not go into the whole promised 200% ROI and mystical medium lottery numbers thing. There wouldn't be enough internet to go around.

I find it incredible that there really are people (women) out there who are so lonely and/or have such low self-esteem that they fall for this bullshit. I feel sorry for them and I'm angry that they've been brought up in such a way that they perceive such "romancing" to be right and true.

I'm naive, of course, but I believe that there would be fewer victims if more people just held the view that "my money is mine, and you can make your own bloody bread/bed, thank you very much".

Anticipation

GOOD GOD, YOU PEOPLE, WHAT DO YOU MEAN "SOON"?

Yes, Loki, I know everyone's hating on you, but that's what haters do.

Is it too much to ask to see Tom Hiddleston rock that pimp stick like a motherfuckin' pimp next weekend?

April Fool's Day, you say?

I am mucking around with a Samsung Galaxy Tab 7.7 whatsit at telco provider Digi while waiting for Enfant Terrible to decide on a smart phone. The Tab is fun to mess with and I liked it, although the idea that countless people and their greasy fingers have preceded me now makes me queasy. I've opened its Polaris Office feature and have typed "Dude i made a new doc" when the sales girl comes over.

Sales girl: Hi, can I help you?
Me: So, can I email myself and open the file on a Windows PC and work on it like a regular file?
SG: Ya, the file is in .doc format.
Me: My god, what a stupid question that was.
SG: And you can also make calls on it too.
Me: NO WAY. I mean, oh yes, of course... Er, I'll be going over to that corner now.