Yes, I can't believe I didn't blog for 3 days already. The unearthly hour of 1.38am and I'm blogging here.
Tomorrow there will be the Concerto Extravaganza, which ZAD will be performing Chopin's Fantasie in and I'll be accompanying her on orchestral reduction. I would also like to mention that I will be disappointing you guys with this blog post, because there isn't much to post and I don't have anything to post.
If you are wondering what kept me up so late, it was Jackie Chan's Rob-B-Hood, which I suddenly felt the urge to catch probably because it was one of the movies that my mum and I watched TOGETHER, and we were laughing out loud. Rare moments, but treasured indeed. So I decided to watch them again.
Am I too sensitive or what? I teared when I listened to Rachmaninov's 2nd Piano Concerto 3rd Movement 2nd subject. I hope it's nothing too scary, and I hope it's normal.
It wasn't even just swooning of the head, I was TEARING!!!
1) Rachmaninov is really a genius.
2) Tarin and Clarence play it so freaking well.
To see whether you're sensitive or not, why not just come down to watch us play tomorrow man. Apparently tomorrow's works are really big and powerful, and even Dr Hecht and Mr Tiu suggested that next time they should split it into two nights, because 'the audience wouldn't be able to take it.'
It's true. With all its glory and power.
I heard this rumor - apparently if you sleep late you get pimples cos of stress and you grow in your sleep so if you sleep less you don't grow. Ah, see, one hand up to deny that already.
Oh, look, that's another one. Alright alright, I know what you guys mean, it's NOT TRUE!
To a certain extent. I'm just kinda finding an excuse for my current predicament.
Fact of the Day: I'm hungry. I want to go IKEA to eat the spaghetti and meatballs now. Right now. I am going to take a taxi to IKEA, demand they open, and eat their spaghetti. All of them. Talking about interesting things to blog, I can only blogged that I went with Akkra and his family to Clarke Quay to have dinner and sorts.
You know, the way I look at Clarence, the way he presents himself on first impression, is really great. Like, check it out, I walk into his parents' hotel room where they're resting (and his 14yo sister is there) and I'm like,
Heck, put on a sullen face and look serious. That's it, that's it, look so freaking serious and hope they smile at you.
No wonder the parents smile at me (count all the years of experience in PR) and the sister doesn't.
Scenario 2:
Clarence walks up with all his perfume and all and gelled-up hair, gives a 1000-watt smile and the whole world smiles at him :)
No wonder I have to learn from Clarence. Heck, he taught me so many things in Germany. Good guy, good guy.
I hope you guys don't mind my titanium-plastic tooth when I smile,
Or the sound of nitrogen-popping when I flex my wrist,
Blah blah blah blah blah blah -ile,
blah blah yada-yada-yada-yada piss.
How's that for a poem, eh? Never know when they might call me up to receive the Pulitzer Prize for Literature.
But then again, I should not start on the self-pitying crap and proceed to post emo messages on MSN. After all, the last time I did it was the last time I had a close-enough friend/girlfriend/fwen/gerlfwen (check Scotland, Ireland), which was in 2006.
Why not, let's go for this later in life and bother about having a stable financial income in this financial crunch NOW?
It's the best alternative plan.
Hope to see you people tomorrow!!!
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