I love this post about Sherlock season 3. It positively sparkles.
“As is often the case with Sherlock, the best bits are less about plot and more about people. Gatiss has written himself a corker of a scene, a ping-pong match of high-functioning resentment between the Holmes brothers. Cumberbatch is as good as ever, deducing an entire life story from nothing but a floppy winter hat. (Next week’s episode amps Sherlock’s intuition up to 11: He identifies adulterers from their iPhone cases and the impotent from their boots.) And Freeman has never been better than he is in the opening minutes, expertly plumbing the bottomless grief of a deeply reserved man.”
“Sherlock makes for a welcome break from the majority of its moody, American cousins. After weeks spent watching and writing about series that mistake darkness for enlightenment and trauma for truth, it’s refreshing to lose myself for a spell in Sherlock’s bright, bubbling London. In fact, the lightness of tone only adds to the drama: Where’s the suspense in a ride that only ever drops straight down? There’s something uniquely exhilarating about watching an unapologetically smart show made by unapologetically smart people.”
When I first moved to my current house, I didn’t quite understand the impressed exclamations of friends and acquaintances alike when they found out I lived in a black-and-white. For me, the house was charming and quaint, but I never really realized the historical significance of the structure itself until much later, and how a lot of people wanted to live in one but can’t. I also didn’t realize how lucky I am in my neighborhood. Singapore is such a big modern city, filled with impressive buidings and tall condominiums, not to mention the vast public housing estates that I have come to realize that living in an actual house, with a yard and an actual neighborhood much like the ones I grew up in has become a rarity here. So I thought I’d record what’s around the neighborhood and post it here, for, er, posterity’s sake.
Continue reading On Hooper
Under the Dome
Under the Dome is supposed to be one of Stephen King’s best novels in years. I’ve only ever gotten to around a third of it before other things distract me and I put down the book again! (It will get read sooner rather than later, I promise.) In the meantime, word is that CBS is planning an eight-part miniseries about it. To get people anticipating the miniseries, they made a creepy interactive promo where you input your address and watch as a “dome” encloses it. Try the link above and have fun! Bonus points for the creepy music too!
[image borrowed from remingtons.files.wordpress.com]
Siiiigh. Lurve. Happy Thursday! 😉
So I was cleaning out my room, like I always do when I feel restless and down. It’s great therapy for the blues. I reached for my yellow travel wallet that I got in Hong Kong last year, and like what one does when holding a purse of a bag, I look inside and what do you know: It had something like US$300 in it! I had forgotten all about it. I knew why, of course. The cash was part of the money I had with me in Phnom Penh and things were never the same for me after that trip last year. And so like many things from that trip and the two months after that, I kind of pressed “pause” for awhile. I needed a break and felt suspended from the day to day. Until this moment.
It seemed fitting somehow that something from that trip marks a turning point this time around. The unexpected windfall brought a smile to my face, not just because it’s a welcome infusion of cash. Finding it just felt like the tide turning somehow. Like Fate reassuring me that things always have a way of working out. I feel warm between my shoulders, like there’s a reassuring hand patting me and saying, “Everything’s fine, you’ll get through this.” Storm clouds have broken, and a patch of sunshine peeped through.
Let everything happen to you. Beauty and terror. Just keep going. No feeling is final.
— Rainer Maria Rilke
A sanity-saver quote, considering the past two months and the past week.
[reblogged from anemptyspace]
In a style rut?
As a jeans-top/T-shirt-cute flats wearing person myself, I tend to forget that sometimes I need to change up my look a little. Here, some simple rules to get us all out of a style rut. Personally, I’m working on number 1, I’ll get to number 3 as soon as I’ve lost more weight or find a skirt that actually flatters my bum, I am not sold on number 7, as I love ratty T-shirts and shorts to bed and I’ve never been convinced of the pajamas-as-outerwear trend (unless I’m in a sleepover)…
… and we need something cute to tide us over for the whole week….
They harvest insects here, do they not? For their honey? Do the bees know they make the honey for you? Or do they work tirelessly because they think it is their own choice? Have you ever noticed that, after hearing new word for the first time in your life, you’ll hear it again within twenty-four hours? Do you ever wonder why sometimes you see a single shoe on the road?
— from John Dies at the End. This is what I did today. Spent all day in bed sucked into the strange wormhole that is this book. And now, I’m feeling guilty for not doing anything. Time for a run. Too bad the bees are already asleep.
Just goes to show that talent will always find a way to come out. A bit of a makeover and some more voice coaching and she can give a lot of so-called singers a run for their money! I hope she gets a well-deserved break!