Ice-T, in a very innovative form of entertainment suicide, has agreed to do a rap song with David Hasselhoff. Stop now before it’s too late.

This is a meme I once did on my ooooold livejournal blog and because I didn’t have an iPod at the time, I didn’t get to do it properly. The rules are simple: put your iPod on shuffle and ask the questions. Whatever song/track comes on will be the answer to that question. No cheating allowed. If Britney Spears appears as the answer to “will my life end in shambles” (just an example people!), then that’s it and you’re doomed. Isn’t it amazing how today, there are iPod Swami memes? 15 years ago, nobody would even have known what that meant.

Since I’m all about interactivity, I suggest you get your iPod (or other preferred device for musical entertainment) and do it as we go along. Obviously I have no way of knowing if you did, but I like to think I made you do it. Planet Anna is a great place to rule.

So here we go, ready, earplugs in, go!

1) How does the world see me?

Fill Me Up by Linda Perry – now that’s a song I haven’t listened to in a while! Do you see me as someone who needs to be filled up? All I know is there are a lot of my friends who would give a lot to see me drunk (which is what the song is really all about). I don’t feel like I need filling up. If anything, I need to drain some things. Interesting answer nonetheless.

2) Will I have a happy life?

They don’t go asking silly questions like “what’s your favourite colour?” here, now do they? Let’s see… iPod Swami says: Use Your Fist and Not Your Mouth by Marilyn Manson. Whoa pappa! “I’m on a campaign for pain / and when I get elected / I’ll wipe the white off your house / the smile off your face” he sings. It’s fierce and powerful and it’s a great song to listen to when you’ve failed your anger management class. But the answer to question #2 lies herein: “I woke up today and wished for tomorrow / I don’t want to be like anyone else / I woke up today and wished for tomorrow / I don’t want to even be myself”. I guess iPod Swami says I won’t have a happy life. Well, iPod Swami, first of all, I’ve always been different and I’ve never cared that much (ok, except that I want size 39 shoes). On the other hand, this week I’ve been feeling miserable, as in ill, and I really didn’t want to be myself. Oh well, time will tell.

3) What do my friends really think of me?

Uh-oh…iPod Swami says: Snakes and Ladders by Joss Stone. That’s a song about not wanting to be played for a fool anymore by a lover. If that’s the only thing my friends deplore about me, that my love-life is like a yo-yo and never seems to get a grip, that’s ok. They’re not wrong.

4) Do people secretly lust after me?

Hmm, iPod Swami Love Doctor says: Ciega, Sordomuda by Shakira. Translated, this song’s title means “Blind, Deaf, Dumb”, although in English we’d probably say deaf, dumb and blind. It’s a song in which she complains about a guy making her completely crazy because she can’t stop thinking of him and loving him. It’s a wonderfully self-deprecating song. “Si pudiera exorcizarme de tu voz / si pudiera escaparme de tu nombre / si pudiera arrancarme el corazón / y esconderme para no sentirme nuevamente / bruta, ciega, sordomuda, torpe, traste, testaruda” — “if I could only exorcize me of your voice / if I could only escape your name / if I could tear out my heart / and hide away so that I wouldn’t feel myself again be / raw, blind, deaf, dumb, klutzy, broken, stubborn”
So I suppose iPod Swami Love Doctor says: yes, people secretly lust after you. That’s good to know. I love that and choose to believe iPod Swami Love Doctor. He’s the best.

5) How can I make myself happy?

Another deep one. iPod Swami says: Ernten Was Wir Säen by Die Fantastischen Vier. In English: you harvest what you sow. iPod Swami is really not worth more than a fortune cookie, is he? You harvest what you sow? Why thank you very much. I wouldn’t have known. Here’s the song for you to listen to while you go through the rest of the meme. It’s a great video, song, melody and beat, even if you don’t speak German.

6) What should I do with my life?

I bet this generates a Britney Spears song. Ok, here we go…iPod Swami says: Toxic by Britney Spears. This is unreal! I swear this is what came up. I couldn’t make this up if I wanted to (actually I could but I really didn’t, I assure you)! So I suppose what I should do with my life is become a hot spy chick and seduce and poison the bad guy. Or maybe it means I should wear diamond studded sunglasses at night? Or maybe drink champagne covered in nothing but crystals? Or maybe the message is more subtle. Maybe I should shave my head off, marry and divorce a wife-beater wearing wannabe, super-fertile rapper and attack people with my embarassing music and umbrellas. Looks like I’ve got a bright future.

7) Will I ever have children?

I keep asking myself that. And my father too. Let’s see what iPod Swami has to say about it: Soar by Christina Aguilera. I suppose this means I will have everything: perfect career, perfect partner, perfect children, perfect Pulitzer. Good for me.

What is some good advice for me?

Miss Independent by Kelly Clarkson. Woot! This is one of my favourite songs by Kelly. I think it’s the best advice: be your own person and love will come to you. Thanks iPod Swami! On a side-note: I seem to only have girlie pop on my iPod. I don’t!!

9) How will I be remembered?

Mademoiselle Chante Le Blues by Patricia Kaas. I’ll be remembered for my singing and wanting to be something I could never be? That’s depressing. What’s iPod Swami gonna tell me next, the date of my death?

10) What is my signature song?

After the Britney debacle above, I’m afraid to push the button. iPod Swami says: Made For Lovin’ You by Anastacia. Cool, I can live with that. I believe in spreading the love.

11) What do I think my current theme song is?

If I had to answer this, I’d say “Driving With the Top Down” from the Iron Man OST. But I’m not the one who has to answer this, iPod Swami is. And he says: Dizzy by Amanda Marshall. I guess in some ways, yes, this would be another good current theme song. Though the dizzyness she sings about in the song would be applied, in my case, less to lovers and more to life. But it’s all love anyway, right? Make love not war!

12) What does everyone else think my current theme song is?

What’s with all these theme song questions? Ok, iPod Swami says: Champagne Supernova by Oasis. “How many special people change? / How many lives are living strange?” I love that song. It’s beautiful and it sounds like a Lush Cosmetics product. So that’s what you all think my current theme song is? Who would’ve thunk? (get it? thunk? funk? oh I’m hilarious)

13) What type of men/women do you like?

In a perfect world, the Angelina/Keanu/David Duchovny types, but let’s see what truth iPod Swami holds here. Men: Razzle Dazzle sung by Richard Gere for the Chicago OST. Does that mean I’m into the Buddhist, white-haired, perpetually mystically smiling types? Hmm, maybe. The one real Buddhist I know is a wonderful guy (hello Heiner!), even if he’s neither white-haired nor perpetually smiling (although he does smile a lot: is it because he’s American or Buddhist or has lived in LA for too long?). Women: Moonchild by Shakespears Sister. This mean I’m into lesbians. You can’t hear it (thank your gods) but I am laughing my ass off right now. Bring on the dykes, yeah baby!

15) What is my day going to be like?

Given that my day is almost over, let’s rephrase the question: 15) What is tomorrow going to be like? iPod Swami searches his soul and says: Yo! Verture by Boomkat. This isn’t even a proper song, it’s the intro to their album. Does that mean I won’t have a proper day tomorrow? Or maybe it just means I’ll have a smashing, fulfilling day where I will once again feel the love I have for my dad? Well, check out the lyrics: “well I’m not sure exactly how but, look Ma we did it and the Boomkat revolution? Is only the beginning! The brother-sister team, world-wide sensation, Boomkat wonder twin powers activation! Dad, this record’s for you, thanks for your voice, me and Kel miss you”.

16) What song will be playing at my funeral?

Hopefully nothing by Britney. Did I just jinx it? Take A Bow by Madonna. Sounds like a good funeral song. Maybe everyone could wear veils and cone bras?

17) When’s the date of my death?

I put this one in for shits and giggles, it’s not in the actual meme. BUT, iPod Swami says: “you will die on the… Too Drunk To Fuck by Nouvelle Vague for the Planet Terror OST”. That’s not even a song. All she does is giggle hyperactively and repeat “too drunk to fuck” over and over and over and over again. This is so funny! Maybe this means I’ll be absolutely fucking pissed the day I day. Which doesn’t sound like a bad plan, at least I’ll finally know what it’s like and not have the hangover the next day. I wanted to embed this from youtube for you, but all the videos of it give you a headache and I didn’t want you, my dear, adored readers, to get a headache.

Hope you enjoyed it, tell me what your answers were.

Live long and prosper, peace,

Anna

If you refuse to see Superman Returns this summer, what you’re saying about yourself is: I heart Al Qaeda.

Welcome to the most random post ever, the love-child of my Super Procrastinator Self and YouTube’s cursed “videos watched now” header.

If you were looking forward to summer, all I’m saying is this:

Here’s a few thoughts I have about summer.

Summer’s cool because the days are longer and I love nothing more than twilight around 10pm.

Summer sucks because I hate sleeveless shirts but they’re the one thing that really helps you keep cool.

Summer will rock this year because for some strange, unfathomable reason I have found two real summer dresses I actually look good in and which have sleeves.

Summer is always hell shoes-wise. All the comfy summer shoes are sporty at best and usually, let’s face it, just plain ugly. All the other summer shoes hurt my feet. The comfy shoes don’t go with 99.9% of the generally more sophisticated clothes I wear above my ankles. The other shoes look great but all I can do is stand in them, motionless. And surprisingly enough, not a whole lot of my daily activities include standing motionless. Or even sitting motionless. Basically: pretty shoes are pretty to look at, but not made for wearing. I will, however, give my new heels another chance. I hate having super sensitive and super-sized feet. Why can’t I have a cool 39 like the rest of the world? I’m not quite Paris Hilton sized (thank goodness) but I’m close enough to make it impossible to find cute shoes. Aarrrghhh.

Summer in my flat is no problem at all. I’m surrounded by greenery so thick that it’s always shady here and never gets really hot. And if temperatures should really rise a lot, I’ll just swap my duvet for a single white sheet, which always makes me feel very French and very sexy. I bet you always wanted to know that. I’m glad you can die in peace now, it’s okay, no need to thank me, I’m happy to help.

Summer is pretty cool for me as a movie-goer. Theatres are almost empty and they’re air-conditioned too. Just how I like ‘em.

My birthday’s in summer. This year, I have only one wish: I want a proper camcorder. Something I can shoot movies with. That’s all I want. Maybe telling someone this would up my chances of actually getting it? I’ll make a mental note.

On the downside of the birthday thing, I’m turning 23. Such a ugly number. And besides, as the oh-so-wise Jessica Simpson once said: “23 is old! It’s almost 25 which is almost mid-twenties!” I don’t want to be old. And bear an ugly number. As a matter of fact, I think I’ll turn 22 again this year. Whaddaya think?

Summer’s cool. But my favourite season is Autumn, when I can sit under a tree and solve math equations and…

Live long and prosper, peace,

Anna

A Razzle, Mr. Flamhaff?

This week has been crazy, and it’s not over yet. The craziest day was yesterday. It was crazy and beautiful and it’s made me realise, once again, that I truly love my life.

In the morning, I went to the press screening of Sex and the City. Predictably, it was disappointing. Usually, my “anticipate the worst” stance makes for good surprises, because really, when you anticipate the worst, even Speed Racer surprises you in a good way. Not so Sex and the City. And I’m doubly mad, because I really, really wanted them to prove me wrong. I’ve been griping about this movie ever since it was in the pipeline and sadly, I have been vindicated yesterday. Those of you who speak German will be able to see my more than dismal review up tomorrow. I tried to find good points too, but when a movie starts off with Fergie teasing your breakfast back up with her awful ghetto ho sound, you understand why the good points were hard to find. As in: impossible. And “Miranda looks the best she’s ever done” is sort of not enough, is it?

The screening itself was fun to attend. There were lots of journalists and most of them were women, of course. We had all (except one butch lesbian who looked just like Cynthia Nixon’s girlfriend) dressed up for the occasion. The day before, I had found, totally by chance, the first pair of perfect comfy high heels of my life. I decided to break them in at the screening. I looked amazing, but I got blisters anyway. It’s not the height that’s the problem, it’s the leather, which is still quite rigid and thus, chafing. I’m just not used to that anymore and my feet are so sore, it’s not even funny. My pinky toes are raw and they hurt even when nothing touches them. I actually had to wash my feet upon coming home yesterday, because of the open blisters on the back of my ankles which looked like they’d get infected if I didn’t wash them. So I did and it was hell. Like rubbing chili paste on them. Then I disinfected them (I always thought I was a switch, apparently I’m a full-blown masochist) and put some band-aids on them. Today, they still hurt. I’m really not happy. These shoes are great, but I fear that in order for the leather to soften, I will have to wear them again and I kind of dread that after yesterday.
I hung out with Stefan at the Abaton after the screening and we grabbed a quick lunch before I had to go home and bake. That’s right, I applied the brownie tactic. After delaying it for a week, because I was really unsure about which way I wanted to go, I got the ingredients the same day I got the shoes. Once I had the perfect shoes, everything else had fallen into place. I found a DVD I’d been looking for at a great price (Evolution), I found a few summer tops at H&M and then I got exactly the right baking dish I needed in order to make brownies. I took that as a sign to go ahead and make them. So I did. They turned out purrrfect. Purrrfect, because anyone eating them starts purring contently the second the first one is melting in their mouth.
After that, I had to drop by at uni (ugh, what a detour), go to work (ugh, call centre shift) and then I finally got to go back to the Abaton. I brought Stefan a few (I’d told him he’d be my alibi for the night) and I brought two tupperware boxes full of the magic brownies to Olli. The poor guy got into a motorcycle accident sometime during the last week and he had both his hands in thick, white bandages and he was walking all funny and bow-legged. Why he even felt he had to go to work is beyond me, seeing as he could hardly open doors properly. His hands seemed like they were hurting. The brownies arrived at the perfect time then I suppose. Unfortunately, for the first time in weeks, my timing seemed to be completely off on Thursday. I spent a total of about three hours that day, talking and laughing with Stefan. We had a great time and it was good to catch up. He also said he was happy I’d come by again in the evening, because I caught him just around the time he usually gets grumpy and tired and I was there to cheer him up. Olli, however, had no time at all. I barely had time to say hello and hand over the brownies and then he was gone in a flash, because right at that moment he had to tend to something. Usually, I miss Stefan and spend some time with Olli. Very strange.
His reaction to the brownies though? Pleasantly shocked, it seemed. He said (or better: stammered) “for me?” in a very incredulous voice. I had the feeling he would have seen that one coming but from his perplexed reaction, he hadn’t. My knees almost buckled and I tried explaining why I’d brought them to him. Only a few moments before, I had had the perfect speech ready and now, standing in front of him, I turned 13 different shades of red and blubbered something unintelligible. There really was no proper explanation I could offer him, short of “I’ve got a huge crush on you”. And that wasn’t exactly an option. He did look grateful though and it seemed like he was looking for a way to say thanks properly without finding one. Then he got called away (did I say I found his walkie-talkie sexy? I’m beginning to dislike it) and I had to get home anyway before I fainted.

Today, I got ill at work. I was okay only a few hours earlier and then suddenly, I got a massive headache that wouldn’t go away even after the second paracetamol and my ears and throat hurt and I think I ran a fever. I had to leave early and when I got home, I sat on my bed and fell into a coma for four hours before I woke up again in time to finally write my SATC review. I did feel better upon waking up, so I’m guessing I haven’t got the flu, but it was weird and unpleasant just the same.

But there’s another thing I want to write about tonight, at least a tiny little bit. I want to tell you something about writing and about movies.

I am giving in my SATC review tomorrow before noon, so I had to write the first draft tonight. As I sat down at my laptop, I could feel it pumping through my veins: the invisible ink that runs in my veins, the ink that holds me together, that makes my world go round, that drives me and pushes me on and on. It’s a sort of magical ink that pours out of my system when I need it and that demands its place in my life. I never knew I had it in me, at least not until a few years ago. I didn’t know that writing was what I was meant to do, but now I do. And it’s a strange alliance. Sometimes, it just comes out. It’s like I open up a vein and there it is. I bleed from my left wrist and with my right hand, I dab my feather in the liquid and write down the words. They just manifest themselves, they come to me and out of me and they want to be committed to paper. Other times, I have to summon it. The great thing is, it’s there anyway, I just have to take it. At times, I’ll really not feel like writing but I’ll have to because I have an assignment or a dealine to keep. Then, I have to sit myself down, breathe and start. And after a little while, the words will take me deeper. They become a maelstrom that grips me and swirls me around and around and won’t let me go until I am finished.
So far, I’ve never suffered from writer’s block. I’m not saying never, but I do strongly doubt it’ll happen. I’m lucky enough to be able to discern a job from a pleasure and I think that’s the key. Writing isn’t merely therapy or fun, it’s my job. And a job, even when you don’t feel like it, has to be done and you can’t let silly writer’s block get in the way of that, right? And anyway, I’m a lucky girl. I have the enormous privilege of writing about something I love most of the time.

Cinema. Tonight I once again got to peek at the answer to a question I have been asking myself for years now: why do I love movies so much?
I was watching 13 Going On 30 with Jennifer Garner (who is quickly shaping up to be one of my favourite actresses) and during the scene in which she makes her re-design presentation, I was crying like a babe. And then I got this fuzzy feeling around my heart: “this is part of why I love movies, this is what I watch them for”, I thought. Because they tell us stories that make us laugh and cry. Because they tell us how magical life can be and yet, hold a mirror up in front of us and make us question ourselves.

My life is truly magical. It’s far from perfect but it’s an adventure and that’s what I love about it. Everyday, I go through a million emotions. I am blessed to be able to feel them all. I am blessed that I am able to express a lot of them. I am blessed to have found and to live one of my many passions. I am blessed to be alive today and to fight the war. I lose battles every day but it doesn’t matter. I am victorious simply because I don’t deny anything. I just hope that one day, I will have won the battles that mean the most to me. I love this magical adventure.

Live long and prosper, peace,

Anna

Don’t you dare use the word "party" as a verb in this shop!!

Wow, what a weekend. And what a week it’s shaping up to be!

I wanted to write about Saturday night as soon as Sunday, but I was too exhausted. And when Monday rolled around, I was still exhausted and not in the mood for writing. Now I’m ready.

Soooo: my friends and I have one night, usually around the middle of the month, where we go out to spend some real quality time together. Id est: we don’t talk shop. Now you might think: she’s 22 and a student, why is this special and why is it only once a month? Well, I may be young enough and in the right demographic, but I simply ain’t got the money to do this more than once a month. Or the time, for that matter. And it’s similar with my friends. These nights are usually very, very pleasant. We try to choose places we haven’t been to before (only to end up exactly where we’ve been before because it’s so nice there) and we just sit and laugh and have a good time. We don’t go clubbing or salsa-dancing or anything else involving hundreds of people packed like sardines in a can with deafening music, which I greatly appreciate. Occasionally, we’ll go to a concert, but these are well-chosen in advance.
But last Saturday night? Last Saturday was the best I’ve had since I moved to Zurich (well, actually, it’s at a tie with the film quiz night). It was the perfect mix between planned and spontaneous and we had so much fun, we could have canned it. We started off having dinner and drinks in one of our favourite places, the one we always have the paper’s staff meetings in. They’ve apparently won all sorts of cocktail awards and it shows. Well, tastes. Then one of the guys said he was meeting his roommates and some more friends in a karaoke bar later on and wouldn’t we like to come too? I almost choked on my maraschino cherry. Karaoke? Later? Come? Hell yeah!
You see, Carola and Patrick and Pascal are the most darling people but they come with a built-in embarassment-safe and they are quite the shy types. Point in case, uni: when we get asked a question, I sit there waving my hand high in the air. “Me, me, pick me, I know!” The three of them? They sink back into their chairs, look down and hope nobody will notice them, even though in 90% of the cases, they also know the answer. They just don’t like speaking in public. Period. So karaoke? They laughed in my face the first time I suggested it and I’ve kinda left it at that. But on Saturday, we had Roman in tow. And Roman had friends to meet at a karaoke bar. I squealed with joy and pleaded with the others: “c’mon you guys, you won’t have to sing! Just come along and have a drink there, there’ll be others to sing and you won’t have to, but please just come along!”. It worked. Within 15 minutes, we were out the door and on our way to the karaoke bar. And boy, did we karaoke.

We arrived there shortly before 11pm. The place was Philippino, tiny, cramped and equipped with three screens, two mikes and two very ill-tempered waitresses. It was heaven! As we came in, there was a young black woman singing along to a Britney Spears song and she was the worst singer I have ever heard. Britney Spears, in comparison, would have appeared to be Anna Netrebko. The woman wasn’t really singing, more like breathing into the mike and occasionally, softly, saying a word or two. It wasn’t that she was shy, oh no, she kept on requesting new songs throughout the night. She was just very mistaken as to her singing abilities. But then again, karaoke is all about making an arse of oneself, having fun and giggling about other people. However, I do have to say that our group was by far the best that night. We were all really good at singing, which made the whole experience so awesome. After all, it’s also nice to hear good interpretations of songs you love.
Roman and I decided we’d start off with a duet. To warm up and face the crowds together, in case we’d stink. Seeing as the people who were already there kept picking really cheesy love songs, we picked Bon Jovi’s It’s My Life, to shake things up a little. We had to wait about three songs and then it was our turn. Roman looked me in the eyes, handed me a mike and then the music started. “This ain’t a song for the broken-hearted! No silent prayer for the faith-departed! I ain’t gonna be just a face in the crowd, you’re gonna hear my voice when I shout it out loud! It’s my liiiiiife, it’s now or never! I ain’t gonna live forever! I just want to live while I’m alive, it’s my life”. Roman’s strong, manly voice perfectly complemented my strong, female voice. We were rocking that bar! Esther turned to Carola in amazement and I saw her say something to which Carola replied, shouting: “I told you she had a great voice!!”. I smiled and rocked on. When the song was finished, Roman and I hugged amidst the roaring applause. You know you’ve done something right when the entire bar applauds you.
During the rest of the night, I sang 6 more songs (that excluding the choruses and verses I/we sang with others together) and everytime, people applauded. I’m such a limelight whore. My next song was a dramatic, tear-inducing one: 25 Minutes by Michael Learns to Rock. I was so stunned to see it on the lists, it’s one of my favourite songs! So I just had to sing it. Then Roman and I sang another one together: Wonderwall by Oasis (you really can’t get through an evening of karaoke without that one). Again, I was amazed by his great voice and how well we complemented each other. We were in perfect sync. Knowing exactly when to let the other sing a line alone, when to push the chorus harder for more effect, when to quiet down. One thing was really sweet as well: at the beginning, the first few lines, Roman sort of wavered. Then his roommate leaned across the table and said “drum it out!” and Roman looked at him, relieved and thankful and started to play air-drums. It brought him right back into the song and as I said, we sung it in perfect unison from there on. Drum it out? Turns out Roman is a drummer and so drumming along to the song helped him get back in.
Afterwards, people started singing lots of slow, Robbie Williams song. Feel, Angel, on and on. So I picked We’re an American Band by Grand Funk as my next song. When it came on, I put my all into it, really acting it out. That’s a great song for karaoke, it just takes everyone on a ride.
And then, inevitably, the boys decided it was time for the Backstreet Boys. I’ve never been a fan of boybands and I’ve really never been a fan of the BB. But they sang some of their songs with a little irony and it was kinda fun. When they were done, I figured I had to retaliate with some girl power. That’s right, Spice Girls to the front!! I sung Viva Forever and it was magical. The song is slow and beautiful and the music sounds like watching a golden sunset. I was standing up as I sang it, walking around the bar a little and then finally leaning against the counter, I slowly wrapped it up. As I stood there, putting all the emotions I could into “I’ll be waiting, everlasting like the sun, live forever, for the moment, ever searching for the one”, another visitor of the bar came up to me and said, in English (he was American), “you sing beautifully, you are beautiful!”. I just love the magic of music, how it can bring complete strangers together, even for a short moment. Music really is made to be shared. I think it satisfies one of our most primitive caveman yearnings, to sit around the fire and tell stories through song and dance.
During the course of the night, that blond, blue-eyed American came up to me a few more times, to compliment me and stand next to me, stroking my back while I was singing. During my rendition of Don’t Speak by No Doubt, he looked at me with a mix of admiration and pain, mirroring the pain I was trying to express in the song. Then he picked Whenever, Wherever by Shakira and actually brought me over the mike, asking me to sing it. Another drunk girl was sort of singing along to it too, which was kinda funny as she was trying to mimic the famous Shakira hip-shake that only Shakira can do. Half the time, she was almost falling over trying to do that. But All-American boy was not drunk and while I was singing, he came up close and started dancing with me. We finished off the number with what can only be called foreplay on the dancefloor. Him blowing me kisses and swaying my hips while I was singing, looking deep into his eyes and thrusting my tatas forward for the “lucky that my breasts are small and humble, so you don’t confuse them with mountains” line. It was perfect. When I returned back to my seat, again amidst the hollering and applauding from the entire bar, I could feel Carola and Patrick’s eyes on me. Carola just never ceases to wonder at my ability to make friends with perfect strangers within minutes. The thing is, I don’t think about it. If I’m feeling good about myself and having a great time, it just happens naturally.
Around 4am, they were closing and we had to leave. My farewell song was Fever by Elvis. It’s a shame Mr All-American had already left, because I probably could have taken him home with me that night, had he heard my rendition of it. Nobody can say “fever till you sizzle, what a lovely way to burn” like I do. Well, nobody except the King himself obviously. It’s a great song to sing. It’s really easy, because you don’t sing so much as talk in a sultry voice and when you do, everyone is at your feet. After the applause had subsided, I said “thank you very much” in my best Elvis voice and then went home. That night was glorious and Roman and I said we were going to do it again soon. I can’t wait for next time!

The next day, I was so hoarse and my throat is still a bit sore. I sounded like a cross between Kermit and Elvis, with their voices breaking. But I didn’t even care. This kind of thing is like a battle scar. You’re more proud it’s there than you are sorry for it disfiguring a body part, because the story behind it is so good. And besides, a hoarse voice is gone within a few days.

And now I’m going to tell you the highlight of this week: I get to review Sex and the City: the Movie!! I’m psyched about this. I wasn’t going to go see the movie, because I think it’s a damn shame and waste of money that they made it at all. They should have let the series rest in peace, the same way George Lucas should have let the original Star Wars trilogy rest in peace. I wasn’t going to see it, I promised, unless I could write a review about it and express my opinion on it afterwards. And somehow, by sheer coincidence, I landed the gig! I’m going there on Thursday morning and I think it’s gonna be a rather glitzy affair. This time, instead of having just the email invitation to the screening, which I print out myself and then nobody ever asks to see, I am getting the invitation per actual, real mail. It’s also a rather big movie, with lots of promotion money being pumped into it so I think they will try to pamper us journalists at the screening. One definite clue to that: they are having the press screening at the Abaton, which is almost never used for that purpose, except for big premieres and special press screenings. This, of course, is opposed to going into the cinema and being handed a bunch of stapled papers, with no further ado. I suspect we’ll actually get a real, glossy press junket this time. At least I hope so. I’ll keep you informed.

Okay, now I really have to go. My fridge is empty and my stomach’s growling, which is not a good combination.

Live long and prosper, peace,

Anna

The tree lights up and then I push the button. No, no, wait, wait, wait, wait. I press the button and *then* the tree lights up!

“So what do you do there?”, they asked him.
“Well, she acts and I’m a lighting technician, so we don’t really get to spend much time together during rehearsals.”
“Yeah, but do you get to shine a spotlight on her?”
“Yes, I do” he answered and as the memory of the spotlight on her became clearer in his mind, as he could see her standing up and carefully, regally patting her imaginary powder puff over her face, he smiled a little.
“Awww, that’s so sweet!”, they cooed.
“Yes, she is” he thought.

All right folks, ready for a meme? It’s not even that I don’t have anything to blog about, it’s just that I really felt like doing a movie meme tonight and I tried to compile the best questions I could find in this wide ethereal world that is the internet. You can do it too once you’re done reading mine! Or you can do it in your head as we go along. Anyway, here it is.

Name a movie you have seen more than 10 times.

Just one? There are at least a hundred, if not more, that I have seen more than ten times. What say you to letting me name ten movies I’ve seen more than ten times? Okay? Okay.
Vertigo – Garden State – the original Star Wars trilogy (technically three movies, so sue me) – Clueless – The Matrix – The Rocky Horror Picture Show – Thelma and Louise – The Wizard of Oz – Independence Day – Goldfinger

Name a movie you have seen multiple times in the theatre.

Hmm, now that’s a more interesting question, isn’t it? When I was a child, I used to watch each Disney movie at least twice. But apart from those? The one I have seen the most in a theatre is The Rocky Horror Picture Show. I just love finding rice in my bra when I get home, must be that.

Name one actor and one actress that would make you more inclined to see a movie.

Ok, I’ll try not to go my first, obvious route of Keanu/Angelina but think about it and come up with a more original answer. One actor that would definitely tip a scale for me is Michael Caine. In my opinion, he is one of the best actors out there. I wish I could meet him once for an interview. Now to the women: Amanda Peet. She is such a special actress who can pull of comedy, tragedy and everything in between. If a movie has her in it and it is released in the country I live in, I go see it, no questions asked. I do hope, however, that one day she’ll get more leading roles. Maybe pull a Mark Ruffalo.

Name one actor and one actress that would make you disinclined to see a movie.

Oh, that one is easy! Renée Zellweger. I can’t stand her. Even as a fish in Shark Tale, I can’t stand her. Not only is she a bad actress in my opinion, but what is up with that screwed up, I’ve-just-had-a-stroke mouth of hers? And the way she squints her eyes? And her fugly skin? I have actually ditched movies I would have seen, had she not been in them. From the men? There really aren’t many that give me the same rash as Ms Zellweger. Thomas Kretschmann, I’d say. I think he’s an awful actor and all that wannabe American, worse-accent-than-Arnie thing he’s got going on just makes me shake my head. You can’t act, honey, why don’t you go back to Germany and not act there either? The thing with him however is that he’s a sneaky one. Because he only gets tiny supporting roles in American stupid-German-money movies (that’s actually a technical industry term, believe it or not), he’s never on the posters and seldom mentioned in comments. So you go see, let’s say, Resident Evil: Apocalypse and there is suddenly is, in all his non-glory and it ruins your entire movie. And anyone who can ruin a movie that already sucks should really reconsider their career of choice.

Name a movie that you can and do quote from.

Does this mean a movie I quote from often or a movie I am able to quote from? Anyway, this direction is a path you do not really want to get me started on. Ask any of my friends and they will tell you I practically speak in movie quotes. Why, this whole blog only has post titles that are movie quotes! That one up there? The really obscure one? Anyone remember? No? It’s the Ice Princess in Batman Returns.
But okay, I’ll play along: a movie I quote from often would definitely be Star Wars. “May the Force be with you”, it doesn’t get more classic and more beautiful than that. Or maybe Sunset Boulevard “I am big, it’s the pictures that got smaller!”
A movie I can quote from: Goldfinger (just came to mind earlier in this post). “Do you expect me to talk, Goldfinger?” “No, Mr. Bond, I expect you to die”. You should hear me do that German accent, it would crack you up but good. Hey, at least it does me.

Name a movie musical you know all of the lyrics to all of the songs.

The Rocky Horror Picture Show. And Hello, Dolly! And Grease. Man, restriction isn’t really my best asset, is it?

Name a movie that you would recommend everyone to see.

Your life isn’t complete without Annie Hall!

Name a movie that you own.

WTF? Last time I checked, I was at 148! But ok, here, I’ll give you something you can later blackmail me with: Cyborg 2. Yup, that’s right. Not even the first awful one. The sequel.

Name one actor and one actress that started his/her acting career in another medium but has suprised you with his/her acting chops?

Whoa, cool question! I’d think I’d have to go with Charlize Theron, who started as a model. She kicks serious ass. As for the man… please don’t hate me, but this just popped into my head: Curtis “50 Cent” Jackson. Yes, you read right. I have no idea if he has done a movie since Get Rich or Die Tryin’ but I was seriously impressed by his performance in it. Is it easy to act if you just have to play yourself? Maybe, but that doesn’t change the fact he was great.

Ever made out during a movie and if so, which one?

I would like to be all cool and go “sure I have”, but that is actually not so matter-of-fact. I had my first movie-dinner date at age 20, with Steve. Can you believe it? Me neither. But with him, yeah, we did make out at the movies. That awful Michael Douglas/Eva Longoria atrocity of a flick that I had to go dig the name up from imdb because I couldn’t even remember what it was called, The Sentinel. Oh, and we also did some naughty stuff during Slither.

Name a movie you keep wanting to see but haven’t gotten the chance yet.

Uh-oh, caught me there. Citizen Kane.

Ever walked out of a movie?

You’ll have to wait until hell freezes over to see that happen. But I did consider gauging my eyes out and stabbing something sharp into my ears and taking cyanide during The Thin Red Line. But in all seriousness: if a movie is so bad that I consider walking out, I stay with even more determination. I like to know what I hate about.
Oh yeah, and I’m one of those true movie lovers who stay for the whole movie, FYI! I watch the credits, dumbasses!

Name a movie that made you cry in the theatre.

The first movie I watched at a more grown up age (i.e 13) that made me cry was City of Angels. Since then, there have been tons. And I’m welling up more and more easily as I grow older. If this goes on at the alarming rate it is right now, I’ll be crying like a baby during comedies in 10 years’ time.

Popcorn?

Never. I go for the movie, not the food.

How often do you go to the movies (as opposed to watching some at home)?

My monthly average would be about 10-12 times.

What the last movie you saw in a theatre?

Oh dang, I hate it when I know I’m going to embarass myself by being honest. Speed Racer.

What’s the first movie you remember seeing in the theatre?

Honestly? I can’t really remember. My real movie turning point was my first over 18 movie. But let’s see… I think it might have been The Little Mermaid. I’ll go with that, at least that’s my clearest, earliest movie theatre memory.

What movie do you wish you had never seen?

There are two in the top spot. The Thin Red Line and South Pacific. Mr. Malick? Mr. Logan? I’d please like those 6 hours of my life back. Stat.

What is the weirdest movie you enjoyed?

Good one! Let me see…probably Barbarella.

What is the scariest movie you’ve seen?

Hostel. Man alive, this one scared the living daylights out of me and I’m not easily fazed. I had the privilege to see it at a film festival, so it was the un-cut, un-censored version and I was riveted and repulsed at the same time. *shudders*

What’s the funniest movie you’ve seen?

Any comedy by the wonderful Woody Allen qualifies really, but I say: Annie Hall, hands down. I doubt there is or ever will be a comedy as brilliant as that one.

What’s your favourite non-English speaking movie?

There are a few that I adore, but I’ll try to restrain myself. Of the classics, I think I would have to go with Shichinin no Samurai (The Seven Samurai) by Akira Kurosawa. Recent ones? Definitely Ben X by Nic Balthazar. I got to write a review on that one and I can honestly say, it has impressed me to no end. And to think this is Balthazar’s directorial debut, I can’t wait to see what he does next!

What’s your favourite food related movie and scene?

Movie? The remake of Dawn of the Dead. Hey!! The zombies eat the living. That’s food related. Scene? Although it wasn’t a very good movie, this has stuck with me for years: in Hook, there’s a scene where Peter Pan and the Lost Boys imagine a festive meal with such fervency that it actually appears before them and they can still their hunger.

What’s your favourite break-up movie (as in, when you are going through one)?

I think I watched a lot of extremely violent B-flicks as I went through my last break-up. I remember watching Perdita Durango for example. And there were actually a lot of movies I didn’t want to see because they reminded me of my ex. But my favourite break-up movie, one that helped me get through it a little easier? That’s so hard to determine. I think I mainly fell back on my number one girly comfort movie: Clueless.

What do you think is the best rebooted movie idea?

I think making the Charlie’s Angels series into some rocking power-chicks flick with Cameron, Lucy and Drew was sheer genius. I love those movies. Usually, I’m not such a fan of reboots, but that one was great! I wish they had plans to do a third one of those.

And finally, what is your favourite inspirational movie?

I feel like I should answer something really deep here, but honestly? The first thing that popped into my head here was: the Legally Blonde movies. I’m a chick, I’m allowed I suppose. From the classics that are actually good category? Thelma and Louise. I love them. From the modern classics? Igby Goes Down. Yes, I consider it a modern classic and I don’t care if no one has seen that movie.

Live long and prosper, peace,

Anna

Hi. Welcome. Don’t kill me.

I’m currently basking a little in the memories of my childhood, since I discovered that there are oodles of Full House and Sabrina the Teenage Witch episodes on youtube. Let’s all say a Hail Mary for youtube. And a Hallelujah. C’mon, I can’t hear ya! HALLELUJAH!

Anyway, these little tidbits I enjoy with my dinner (I know, it’s bad to combine having a meal with something else, so crucify me) have brought up all kinds of random memories and weird thoughts. So the other night, I got thinking about the new X-Files movie. Then I thought about the first X-Files movie. Then I reflected on how crap that had all been. And then I started thinking how I’d been suuuuuch an X-Phile all these years and how my one true regret in life (I was surprised to find that I actually don’t have many regrets at all) is also linked to the X-Files. And no, I won’t tell you what it is, I’m too embarassed, it makes me ashamed.
AnyHOO: I reminisced about all the characters of series I had loved as a kid and a teenager and it got me thinking about why there are certain characters in series today that I love, etc, etc. And then I came up with a really strange, totally, completely, utterly and absolutely random list of my most heart-wrenching TV moments. Moments that made me cry and sob and yell at the TV and break down in my daddy’s arms and be angry with Chris Carter for the rest of my life (I can hold a grudge with the best of ‘em if it’s necessary). Here it is, I am counting down to make it more TV-like.

#4 of Anna’s Most Heart-Wrenching TV Moments goes to…

… Carrie not marrying Aidan on Sex and the City.

May I just say: what the fuck? What on earth was up with that? Aidan was perfect. He is better than 10 Mr Bigs! He is sweet and yet manly and he loved her so much it hurt. And she went and dumped him??!! Sister, you’d better get yourself to a therapist pronto. I hear NYC is full of them, so it can’t be that hard. Ugh, this still gets to me today!

#3 goes to…

… Tasha Yar being killed off by a monstrous, viscous, black entity on Star Trek: TNG.

I refused to believe it when I first saw it. I could not believe that Tasha was not going to be flying with the Enterprise any longer. Apparently, she was cut due to the fact that they already had Marina Sirtis as Deanna Troi and that having two hot chicks on the show (nobody seemed to think Dr Crusher qualified as a hot chick although she had hair I’d have killed for) was too much for their payroll. So they ditched the less important hot chick. I loved Deanna as well, but there was just something about Tasha. She was so beautiful. A real Amazon with a pixie cut and a tricorder. Come to think of it, is she the reason I always knew I was bi? I mean, I wanted to be Deanna Troi (who doesn’t want to wear different uniforms every seasons, have jewel-encrusted thick curly Lord-of-the-Dance hair and be telepathic, not me, that’s who) but I wanted to be with Tasha Yar. I think she might well have been my first girl crush. Even before Dana Scully. Tasha, I will never forget you. And the fact that for years, every time I turned on my TV to a random episode of ST:TNG, I landed smack dab in the middle of that one, definitely made sure I wouldn’t forget you and the horrible way you had to go. RIP Lieutenant Tasha Yar.

#2 goes to…

… Lauren Reed stealing Sydney Bristow from Michael Vaughn and marrying him because Sydney was presumed dead.

I hate her with a passion. A PASSION, you hear me?! Ooooh that Lauren Reed with her ugly powder blue eyes and her peroxide blonde hair and her pale skin and missing waistline. Ooohh how I seethe when I think of her! How I loathe her and curse her! She stole Vaughn away from the only woman who was allowed to be with him except me! And don’t give me that “but Sydney was presumed dead for two years” crap. She knew what she was doing, that cunning, conniving, conspiring BIATCH! She knew all along. And she ruined the entire 3rd season by being… alive. There. Present and breathing. I can’t watch that 3rd season because Sydney and Vaughn are suffering just too much and I can’t take it! Oohh, how I wanted to head-butt that two-faced tart. It’s only lucky that true love always prevails and she was dead with six bullets through her chest and one in her head by the end of the season. She wasn’t even good enough for Sark and goodness knows I have resented him every now and then for being such a meanie to Sydney. But never like Lauren Reed. Oh no, never like Lauren Reed.

#1 goes to…

… the Lone Gunmen giving their lives in order to protect the world from a lethal virus.

Man, you guys are lucky you weren’t there when that one went down. My father was there and he’s usually good at the consoling over X-Files tragedies thing (thank you for easing the pain when I found out that she-devil Tea Léoni married David Duchovny and I was forced to face the fact I would never be his bride). The day the Lone Gunmen died? I though the world was coming to an end. I cried my eyeballs out and I couldn’t stop for the rest of the evening. Even now, thinking about it makes me choke and swallow hard and tear up. What in Lucifer’s reach was going through Chris Carter’s brain when he decided to kill them off? To kill off Mulder’s true friends, those who always stood by him, those who always helped him and Scully, those who even occasionally hit on her to no avail? These were fine men, proud men and you threw them away, Chris Carter, like you didn’t care. Well guess what? I cared! I was heart-broken and shook up for days. I wondered if this was truly Armageddon. If the Lone Gunmen had to die, what would be next? Who would be next? Scully? Mulder? Why didn’t you just go right ahead and rip my beating heart out of my ribcage and make me watch it stop beating? That would have been less painful. I will never forgive you for that Chris. Never. And I might not even watch the new X-Files movie because really, what is the X-Files universe without John Fitzgerald Byers, Melvin Frohike and Ringo Langly? Nothing, that’s what. I hope you’re satisfied. I couldn’t live with myself if I had done that. And one day, Chris, you fiend, I will feed you to Eugene Tooms for what you did.

So, that’s it. That’s my list. Who knew I could get so worked up again about all this? Well, I guess time just doesn’t heal everything after all. And if I may, I’ll just quote the Chicks again: “I’m not ready to make nice, I’m not ready to back down, I’m still mad as hell and I don’t have time to go round and round and round”.

Live long and prosper, peace,

Anna

ps: what was up with all that religious vernacular at the beginning of the post? where did that come from? I’m so weird and confused sometimes.

What did you say to him? I don’t know! I think it was "go away I can smell you from here", in Ewok.

I had a plan. A plan involving Stefan, a visit to the cinema and a batch of brownies. I think I lost it somewhere around 1am.

The day has been mildly annoying. Worries about my father, dishes piling up no matter how many I clean, lots of little, annoying things. I cleaned my mirrors only to smudge black mascara all over the bathroom one a few hours later. Everything’s been a little off today and I had actually planned to stay at home, watch Sabrina, go to bed at a reasonable hour in order to get up at a reasonable hour and do my laundry, some grocery shopping and finally do my spring cleaning, which this flat is in dire need of. Instead, I somehow got into my head, at 10:45pm, that I had to tell Stefan about my plan right now and that I wanted to see What Happens In Vegas… Expecting Olli to be working a shift tonight, I put some lipstick on, painted my eyes smokey and did something to my hair. Then my bus was late and I just barely made it to the movie. I saw no one on my way, which is unusual. Well, no one except the woman at the ticket counter who already knew what I wanted to see before I even said it and immediately typed in the reduced price I get because I have this Cinecard thing for people who go to the cinema a lot. Should this worry me? I asked myself while I was climbing the stairs. People here know me too well. Or maybe it was just keeping in tone with the whole Twilight Zone, hazy-floaty feeling of the day.

During the break in the movie (I refuse to call those breaks intermissions, they are unscheduled, unwanted, uncalled for bloody breaks and I hate them with a passion), I stepped outside to see if Stefan was around. I had to tell him about my plan! I had to tell him that tomorrow (Olli’s usually last shift of the week), I would show up for one of the night movies with a batch of my magical brownies. Relax people, not magical because they’re spiked with illegal substances, but magical because last time I made brownies for a man, I ended up with a boyfriend. These puppies are the cat’s meow, so to speak. So I wanted to tell Stefan about the whole Olli thing, get his opinion and any last minute advice and then proceed to inform him he would be my alibi for bringing the brownies, half of which I would of course have set aside for Scrumptious Olli, thoughtful, delightful girl that I am.

Instead, I got the not available signal when I tried to call him and even worse, I saw I had gotten yet another obnoxious text message from stupid Mr Bugs (remember him, the guy who asked me out on Valentine’s Day, over the phone?). Yes, that idiot is still not taking “no” for an answer. Every now and then, he sends a text message my way with some religious-tangled-with-romance crap that just makes me go up the walls. He’s been doing that although I explicitly told him not to. There’s seems to be absolutely no part of “please refrain from contacting me ever again” that he understands. And these texts always come at the wildest, most unpredictable moments. So really, it shouldn’t have surprised me as much as it did when I saw his name flashing on my screen under the envelope. But not so long ago, I told him again that I didn’t want him texting me anymore. At first, I had simply ignored anything he sent me, hoping he’d get that I had meant what I’d said eventually. Then, the last time, I replied a really ill-tempered sms because I thought that maybe that would help. It didn’t. Since last time I’d told him “stop telling me you’ll be seeing me soon or talking to me soon or reading me soon or writing me soon, because there will be no soon, please leave me alone”, this time he texted “I am merely composing a little here, in order to be writing to you soon, I would have to have your address”. Whatever. I’m sorry, I bet you were just able to hear that bitchy tone of voice right through the screen. I deleted the sms. I’m back to ignoring him. I’m not going to feed his frenzy any more and hope for the best.

Anyhoo: I ran into Luciano, another projectionist at the Abaton I know. He’s originally Argentinian, I think, but he’s one of those blonde, Scandinavian looking Argentinians. He’s very sweet but very shy and whenever he talks to me, I feel like I am scaring the living daylights out of him. I never know how to make that stop. He confirmed that Stefan wasn’t there and also said he wouldn’t be in this weekend. Major bummer. I slyly asked where Olli was. Luciano said “I haven’t seen him today actually, he works less than he used to since he’s gearing up for some other thing, some new job or so”. Great. As much as I enjoy Luciano’s company, that wasn’t quite what I’d had in mind for tonight.
I returned to my seat, shuffling my feet, and then drowned my sorrow in peach iced tea.

And then the strangest thing of the night happened. I was watching the credits (as I always do) and was the only one left in the cinema. Suddenly, an usher I haven’t really noticed up until now, walked in, smiled at me (more like beamed actually), walked around picking up a few things and then sat down a few rows away from me, watching the credits roll too. I was bewildered. I didn’t know him, that much I was sure of. Had he smiled at me because he smiled at everybody? He didn’t look like it, with his slightly goth looks. Then I thought “maybe there’s something after the credits and he’s in the know” and that was why he’d smiled at me, because he was acknowledging I was smart enough to stay and actually see the whole movie, unlike all these idiots who had left early. The post-credits-scene played and I looked over to him. Our eyes met, he didn’t smile. I had no idea what was going on. The lights went all up and I got ready to go. Heading for the exit, I had to walk past him. He didn’t get up out of his seat, he just sat there and watched me walk towards him, smiling a serious smile (I’m sorry, I don’t know how else to describe it). Just before I got a chance to just nod at him and be on my way, he said “I hope you had a good time, have a nice evening. Well, a good night anyway”. I stopped in my tracks and stood there, a bit dumbfounded for a few seconds. Then I looked at my watch and tried cracking a joke: “well, it’s 2am, it’s almost good morning, isn’t it?”. “Nah, it’s still night time” he said, with a tone that was meant to be just a little bit enticing. Not a lot, really not a lot, but there was definitely some of that going on there. So I said “well, goodnight to you too then”, gave him a warm smile and a little wave as I turned to walk away. In an instant, he was behind me, walking out of the cinema as well, pretending to be busy and headed somewhere. I decided to take the stairs down, instead of the elevator and while I was walking down them, I suddenly noticed he was right behind me. Our eyes crossed again briefly but we didn’t say anything. I guess I didn’t want to try another joke and I have no idea what he was thinking. The man is pretty inscrutable. I stepped into the breezy night air bewildered, slightly amused and wondering what the heck that was all about and where it had come from and whether or not it meant my evening hadn’t been a complete disappointment because he might have been flirting with me. It’s so weird, can’t one usually tell when one is being flirted with? I sure as hell couldn’t in this case. For all I know, he might have been making fun of me because I was the only one in that entire screening who was there without a date (and he would have noticed).

But you know what? Something has just struck me as I was writing this down. The whole sitting-down-for-the-credits-only thing when everyone else but me has left the cinema and then chatting me up? That’s how I met Olli. I had only seen him around the house a few times before he did that and on the night he approached me, it had been sheer coincidence that a few hours before he had come to sit down with the group of projectionists I was talking to. Is it possible that word has gone around about me in this cinema? It’s not such a far-fetched assumption, is it? After all, it has happened, after Olli and I got acquainted, that one usher has greeted me by name although I didn’t know him. But then, what’s the deal here? I’ve gotta tell ya, I might feel pretty on some nights, but I’m not the knock-out whom every guy would want to talk to (not yet anyway). Which is why I’m worried the guy ushers there have some kind of bet going or are collectively making fun of me. Or is that too, according too much importance to myself? I could really use an opinion or two here.

So what have I learned from all this tonight? I think I might have been pushing myself and things way too hard. Maybe bringing over a batch of brownies is not such a good idea. Maybe I’m really putting too much pressure on everything by coming up with such plans, which might not be as good as they sounded in my head. Am I trying to fix something that isn’t broken? Should I leave well enough alone? It almost feels like that right now. I’m the take-action kind and maybe I should just rein it all in for now. What do you guys think? Then again, I can’t be held accountable for any baking and crazyness that might occur tomorrow. I’ll let you know. ‘Cause after all, brownies that equal instant boyfriends can’t really be all that bad, can they?

Live long and prosper, peace,

Anna

ps: Oh and What Happens In Vegas…? Good music, great editing, total over-acting by Cameron and Ashton. Entertaining, but I would have expected more from these two teaming up.

Come on, move with me.

I don’t know why, but I’m really prolific, new posts everywhere! I really liked my run-down of my Iron Man playlist, so I thought I’d hit you with “The Sydney Mix“, so called for the lovely Sydney Bristow, whom I love much more than anyone should ever love a TV character. I guess it was time to replace Mulder and Scully with something from the 21st century. Hey, at least I don’t get as unnaturally attached to them as my school friend Vicky who basically tried to live in The Creek and be Joey Potter.

So here’s the Sydney Mix, which is sort of sad and slower, because she’s so sad most of the time.

1 – Love Is My Witness by Amanda Marshall – “life is a diamond, at first surrounded by the coal, it takes more than words to make us whole”, starting off with a plea for true love

2 – Antología by Shakira – a song that almost makes me weep, it’s so beautiful and true

3 – Beautiful by Christina Aguilera – I love the transvestite in her video, so serious, sad and yet strong and happy somehow

4 – Chanson d’Amour Pas Finie by Patricia Kaas – an incredible song that is, well, unfinished and that leaves you wanting more of it, so much so that you have to listen to it over and over again

5 – Cinderella Beautiful by Peter Cincotti – if anything sums up my relationship with Steve, that song is it

6 – Do You Have A Little Time by Dido – I love those “quiet” songs that sound like someone weeping silently

7 – Don’t Let Me Be The Last To Know by Britney Spears - alright, this one is thrown in to mix it up a little, go on, I’ll wait till you have all finished laughing, I know! I know! I said I know. But in the right mood, this song isn’t that bad. It’s still bad, but not that bad.

8 – Drive You Home by Garbage – Miriam turned me on to this album, it’s a good song for any grieving period you might experience after your relationship has ended

9 – Funnyman by KT Tunstall – oh how I love KT (you’ve gotta love a woman who wins Best Female at the Brit Awards and says “it’s great to be a woman and it’s even better to be the best!”), she is amazing and so are her songs. This one will always remind me of the day Heath Ledger died. At the time, I was listening to that song quite often and when he died, the lyrics suddenly made perfect sense and they felt like they were meant for him. RIP Heath, I will think of you every time I hear Funnyman. Here’s a wonderful acoustic version of her singing it:

The line “and with nothing to lose, said you feel like a bruise on a beautiful body” just does something to me every time I hear it.

10 – I Bruise Easily by Natasha Bedingfield – I too, bruise easily. It’s just that people usually don’t understand or believe that

11 – Inevitable by Shakira – another one of her early Spanish songs, this one just makes you reflect on yourself and your own habits. It’s also got the line “siempre supe que es mejor, cuando hay que hablar de dos, empezar por uno mismo” (I always knew that when you’re talking about two people, it’s better to start off with yourself) which I wrote down on a post-it for my then-boyfriend Elmar because it pretty much summed up the promise we had made to each other at the beginning of our relationship. Last time I heard from him, he told me he still had it stuck on his cupboard.

12 – Last Exit To Eden by Amanda Marshall – she’s one of the few artists out there who are able to write songs that take you on a roadtrip, this is one of them

13 – One Day I’ll Fly Away by Nicole Kidman on the Moulin Rouge! OST – I used to feel that way a lot, now I feel like I’m flying

14 – Pure Shores by All Saints for the The Beach OST – possibly the best song written for a movie
that became a hit, this one is so soulful and the chorus is gripping

15 – Sand In My Shoes by Dido – by Jove, I cried every time I heard this song for months on end after I came back from London in 2003, after spending a week with Tony Sloman. I wanted nothing more than to go back there.

16 – Superman by Sandi Thom – another British lady with more talent in her pinkie than all those Idol candidates could even imagine – this song has lots of powerful lines and yet the melody is so sweet and quiet – “some of us are reaching for stardust / some of us are digging for gold / but it won’t mean a lot, on a mountaintop / when the wind reaches out for your soul”

17 – The Windmills Of Your Mind by Noel Harrison for the The Thomas Crown Affair OST (the original) – a poem made into a song, a song that’s also a poem, this is a song that even Sting’s awful, horrid, stinking remake of it couldn’t destroy. And that’s saying a lot.

18 – In The Waiting Line by Zero 7 on the Garden State OST – that one just sucks you in. I think I cried a lot with that one too. And it keeps being used in movies and TV series. Remember the SATC episode where Carrie wears the candy-striper costume for Big and cares for him while he has the flu? This song is playing while she sadly looks out the window at the end of the episode, after he’s disappeared again.

19 – You Belong To Me by Rose McGowan for the Planet Terror OST – written by Robert Rodriguez and sung by a very sexy Rose McGowan, this song isn’t quite sad but it’s slow and sultry and I love it. I’d make love to it if that were possible.

20 – Sunset Borderline by Sandi Thom – if you are missing your childhood, this song is perfect for you. Even if the moments are gone, we can always retrieve them from our memory.

21 – Take A Bow by Madonna – the big M in all her glory, I only discovered this jewel decades after it was originally released, but I love it just the same

22 – Piece By Piece by Katie Melua – if there’s a song that has helped me get over Steve, it’s that one. And I’ve shed many tears over it too.

23 – One For My Baby sung by Robbie Williams on his album Swing When You’re Winning – I love this song and this is a great version of it. And I can sing it with a voice that oozes sex.

24 – Cerilene by Sister Hazel – my favourite love song ever, I’ve never heard anything comparable

25 – Without You by the Dixie Chicks – this is an old Chicks song, I think I like it so much because I once wrote a song called the same and because it’s just so spot on

26 – Wind Beneath My Wings by Bette Midler – want to know how I got turned on to this song? Gilmore Girls. There’s an episode where Lorelai talks to Rory the morning after Rory came home from the her first cop raided party. They are walking by the trashed house, where the residents are picking up on the lawn and Lorelai finds out Rory is the reason for the mess. Rory is feeling really bad and then Lorelai looks at her all quiet with a huge grin and a proud look in her eyes. Rory asks her why she’s looking at her like that and Lorelai breaks into song: “did you evah know, that you’re my heeeeroooo? and everything I would like to beeeee, I can fly higher than an EAGLE, ’cause you are the wind beneath my wiii-hiiii-hiiiinnnngggssss!” I want to have a daughter one day just so I can do that too. Not really. Just a little?

27 – I Will Always Love You by Whitney Houston – enough said.

I think I also wrote this post because my dad is in hospital again with pneumonia and I talked to him tonight. It makes me sad and worried, even if I know that he’s going to be better eventually. He has a big, uncomfortable test coming up tomorrow and I hope he’ll make it through alright. If you are reading this, say a little prayer for him or think of him a little, whatever you believe in will do.

Live long and prosper, peace,

Anna