Because Sunday

"I had a vision of a world without Batman."

My Favourite T-Shirt

My Favourite T-shirt has impeccable taste in films.

Writing about my Sundays is shaping up to be a semi-regular affair here in this public journal of mine, and I think I want to keep it that way. I like having written proof that I have some semblance of a meaningful existence in motion here, even if I'm not entirely convinced I do.

In the evening of the most recently departed Sunday, I was out to catch Predators at the cinema on my own. It was an at-the-spur of the moment thing and I didn't bother texting any names in my phone's contact list if they would like to join me. Yeah, that's what time does to friends, you see, they become acquaintances, and then merely names. Friendships are leaseholds - I recognise that they run out eventually. Ever since I graduated from high school, I have grown incrementally detached from the idea of interpersonal connections. I suppose they are good things to have, but I admit that I am emotionally ill-equipped to afford them. The loss of a friend has never given me grief, come to think of it.

Is this normal?

Last Tuesday, when I was purchasing tickets for Inception in advance, I discovered that an old friend who had walked out of my memories of ye olde college days and materialised at the cinema's box office, selling movie tickets. I was bewildered when a strange girl came towards me to give me a high-five but a quick glance at her name tag brought it all back. I didn't recognise her because she had shed so much weight. On Thursday, she helped me to hold on to some tickets for a couple of friends who couldn't make it there on time (I couldn't bear the thought of missing even a second of Inception to wait for the pair). And on Sunday, I arrived at the box office just as she was leaving for her dinner break. I decided to join her and she insisted on buying me a McD's sundae, a diet Coke and a bite off her sandwich.

She was the roommate of the Ex-Grrrfriend™ back when we were all studying in Taylor's College and in truth, we were never very close. However, we shared enough of a past to want to reminisce. In that briefest of half-hours, I learned that we have so much more in common than I ever suspected; something which she pointed out in between bites of her grilled chicken burger. I already knew we are both lovers of cats, but I didn't realise that we both prefer the taste of diet Coke over the original; are into recycling and environmentalism; and eschew the use of a straw when drinking anything. It's funny, but I used to work as a ticket booth guy and steward for Golden Screen Cinemas as well, but back in 2005.

It really doesn't take much to change a name back into a friend, does it?

Crêpe? More like Crâpe, amirite?

Saying my goodbyes and my promises to meet up again before too long to Jo Ee, I found myself standing in the face of more than 2 hours of waiting before my showing was scheduled to start. It's a good thing I always have a book on my person (I've started on Margo Lanagan's Tender Morsels) and all I required was a place to read it. After wandering for a spell, I found myself standing outside of Nadeje Pâtisserie; a cafe famous even out-of-state for their Mille Crêpe. I have boycotted the establishment since 2008 because they started this stupid policy of not allowing customers to dine in their premises if they don't also order a drink along with their cakes.

The sandwich board outside the café said that with the addition of RM 3 on top of any order, I could get myself a cup of long black. I thought it was a good time to give this place a second chance, and their comfy chairs sure looked awfully cosy...

.... and I'm renewing my boycott for another couple of years. Their Mille Crêpe seems to have shrunken in the wash. I remember them to be at least 33% taller and the slices to be twice as fat, but that's just what my eyes say. My tongue believes that the abomination it wrestled with in my mouth had only half as much cream as it used to, and that its been sitting in the fridge for far too long. They regulars may not have noticed but for someone who had not returned for more than two years (like me), the difference is as jarring as having a teeth pulled out. Also, at RM 8 (not counting tax), it's almost twice as costly too. Compounding my judgment was the fact that I have very recently sampled Humble Beginning's Mille Crêpe. The founder of Humble Beginnings, Amos Chong, was the guy originally behind Nadeje's cakes until he resigned for some undisclosed reason.

My advice? Try Humble Beginnings'. Their Mille Crêpe are bona fide slices of confectionery heaven, I shit you not. Anyone who had tasted Amos' original creations must be a total idiots to continue giving Nadeje business.

Hmmm, 'nother 5 kilos off me would be perfect, don't you think so?

Left with a literal bad taste in my mouth, I went to check if the DC Comics apparel store had replenished their stock of Joker T-shirts. I was looking to replace mine because it was fading something awful considering how bloody often I wear and wash it. Besides, I am already quite advanced in the process of slowly shrinking out of that one because my metabolism have apparently forgotten how to put on weight after I have kickstarted it out of dormancy in May. Most of my mostly and depressingly black wardrobe are also getting too loose for me - but priorities, priorities, my lovelies.

The one I have on in the picture is about two sizes smaller than the one I own, and it does feel a bit snug round the chest region. But that's okay. A while back, I had cultivated a habit of purchasing clothes that are ever so slightly too tight for myself as a personal motivational force for me to downsize into them eventually. So far, it's been working out spiffingly for me.

Anyway, the reason why I felt compelled to see Nimród Antal's Predators was because I wanted to listen to the /Filmcast podcast review on it. It's backwards, I understand, but we all have our neuroses - and sometimes, the two-hour long podcast discussions can actually be much more enjoyable than the films they are talking about. Now, I'm not going to review Predators, but it was way better than I thought it would be. It's brainless, silly fun. Adrien Brody was unexpectedly bad-ass and has a better Batman voice than Christian Bale's embarrassing solicitations for a lozenge. This might come as a bit of surprise by I am one of the last movie-lovers in the world who haven't seen the original Predator, but now I want to.

Jo Ee helped me check if Inception's going to be played on their biggest screen anytime soon since I want to re-watch it - but as far as she could uncover, it's not happening this entire week. If The Sorcerer's Apprentice opens this Thursday in theatre number one, I swear I'm going to see a pirated copy just to spite it.



P.S. I could easily have split this into three separate posts, but.



Struggling with normalcy,
k0k s3n w4i