Will and Kate’s Royal Wedding


First and foremost, I have to say that I was not a follower of Will and Kate during their dating years. As they say, I have ‘jumped the wagon’ when I saw articles about the two in various magazine and internet articles. When their engagement was announced, I was like “Okay… that’s interesting.” But days, weeks even, before the big day, I found myself eager to find out as much as I could about Prince William and Kate Middleton.

Their engagement pictures:

They look sweet, don’t they? You can’t doubt the love and affection they feel for each other, which I think is one of the reasons why there’s so much hype around their wedding. Kate a ‘commoner’, therefore she would be a princess upon marriage. She symbolizes the happily ever after. She’s the Cinderella of this real-life fairytale.

As I know you all are aware, today is the day of their wedding (Friday April 29, 2011). I’ve eagerly anticipated it: I’ve scouted the web and the TV channels and found out days in advance that you can watch the wedding live in Yahoo! and YouTube if you want to catch it online; but I opted for the TV route, and I caught everything in TalkTV. They had a special and everything… of course, I jumped between that and the GMA news channel. I’ve got to show support for my country, after all.

The wedding was wonderful. There were hats everywhere in every shape, size and color. Harry was there supporting his brother (and I noticed that yes, he did have more hair that Will, not to mention more medals ^_^). Kate’s dress was wonderful. She was beautiful, elegant, graceful and, more importantly, she did not mess up Will’s full name. (Because you’ve got to admit, William Arthur Philip Louis is a mouthful.)

And of course, no wedding, royal or not, is complete without The Kiss — yeah, capital letters and all. Unfortunately, seeing as Will and Kate got married in Westminster Abbey, they weren’t allowed to kiss. They did make up for it, though, when they smooched twice when they were in the balcony of Buckingham Palace (just like Princess Diana Prince Charles).

More pictures of the big day:

(Disclaimer: the pictures above are not mine. I have no claim in their ownership, seeing as I was not in London, England on the 29th of April, 2011… obviously.)

I’m Posting Every Week on 2011!!


Yes, I am aware that since it’s April, I’ve missed approximately sixteen weeks worth of posts. But, better late than never, eh? I stumbled upon this challenge in the Daily Post and I figured, why not? It sounded fun, so… here I am!

The Secret Life of the American Teenager


I’ve made a promise to myself that I would never, ever, ever watch the TV show that knocked Kyle XY from its time slot, but I happened upon The Secret Life of the American Teenager by accident. I mean it, honest! One thing just led to another and then, before I knew it, I was paying the cashier lady!

I was the proud owner of The Secret Life of the American Teenager, Season 1.

Anyway, after watching the pilot episode, I was hooked. I mean, a fifteen year old girl getting pregnant from a one night stand in band camp? It’s so unlikely it’s believable (in the, you know, soap opera kind of way). And I sort of sympathized for Amy, even though her “woe is me” acting does get kinda annoying. She tries so hard to be responsible, but she slips up and behaves so much like the irresponsible, naïve teenager… I feel for her, you know?

I’m now into the twentieth episode (where Amy finally gets a job, and Ben and Ricky get a job, too — about time), and I’m kinda wondering how all these teenagers get to have a dramatic life. They make mistakes and try to fix and handle them, but I just can’t help but ask the TV screen what the heck are they thinking? Maybe I’m just set in my ways, but I can’t help seeing a way to fix things that could avoid all the drama… but then again, that would mean no TV show.

Hey, I’m not complaining (much).

Well, I’m looking forward for the next season, so I’m eager to go to the shop and buy it. I’m even restraining myself from checking out Secret Life‘s Wikipedia page so that I won’t get any spoilers. Of course, I checked anyway. But, I made sure to just look at the various actors and actresses and guess what? My hunch was right! They were older than what they’re supposed to be, especially in Jack’s case.

Distraction


I felt lethargic as the teacher talked in front of the class about something I couldn’t bring myself to care much about. My eyes were heavy, my mouth dry and my mind sluggish. I made a conscious effort of shaking the sleepiness away, but the combination of the dreary topic and the wonderful, relaxing feeling of actually letting my eyes drape close were too much to resist. I knew that I would regret letting my concentration slip like this – I was already regretting not falling asleep in a decent hour last night, or should I say earlier this morning? – however this moment’s pleasure was worth the detention I was sure to receive if the teacher caught me like this.

Slipping in and out of consciousness, my hand traced a pattern on my open book so that the teacher would think I was awake and paying attention. It wasn’t until I was well on my way into dream land, my hand resting on a diagram about inverse functions, when I felt a weight on my shoulder.

“Ms. Hollander,” the teacher said softly but sternly. “Why are you not working on your assignment?”

My entire body jerked up, and I desperately plastered a look of attentiveness of my face, wishing that my heavy eyes, the dark bags under them and the drool that was touring down my chin would just disappear. Blushing at the teacher’s attention, I surreptitiously wiped the small drip of saliva away with the back of my hand.

“S-sir?” I stuttered, my voice cracking from the lack of use. Actually, this would be the very first time that I spoke for the day. It was an achievement in and of itself. I was a chatterbox, to put things lightly. I would talk to fast and so eagerly that even Superman with his enhanced hearing would find it challenging to comprehend my words.

“The seatwork, Ms. Hollander,” the teacher tapped the long list of numbers on my book, followed by a jumbled numbers and letters and symbols that frankly, did not make one least bit of sense. “Please don’t tell me you haven’t been paying attention.”

“I’ve been paying attention, sir,” I told him honestly. Just not at your lecture, I thought wryly. The idea of sleep was by far a more deserving topic for my attention to be focused on – in my opinion, at least.

I watched as the teacher’s eyes narrowed and his lips thinned into a line. I steeled myself to not balk under his gaze, but instead meet his eyes head on. I wasn’t lying to him, per se… perhaps just misleading him by not telling him the entire truth. But not lying. Definitely not that.

“All right,” he said. “I shouldn’t keep you from your work, then.”

Nodding, one hand reached into my bag for a piece of paper to work on while another reached for my pen, which incidentally was lodged in my hair, holding it up in a makeshift bun. I heard a sigh from somewhere and, perking up at the thought of procrastinating, I searched the room for the person who made the noise. Everyone was bent over their tables, intently working on their assignment. Perhaps I was just imagining it.

I twisted back to face the front and saw the teacher looking at me, and my eyes widened at being caught out in not doing the assigned work. He was glaring at me. The look was so intense that I had to flinch against my will.

“Ms. Hollander, stop being a distraction to others. Work – now,” he intoned.

I didn’t need to be told twice. I uncapped the lid of my pen and began working. I had no idea what to do, but I think I can trudge along. All I was asking for was a passing grade, not high honours. Besides, it wasn’t as if I was planning a career in anything that would require any skills that this subject was teaching. Who needs school anyway?

© the.Luigi

Shakespeare’s Sonnet 130


I was just looking through random videos in YouTube when I stumbled upon this wonderful, wonderful little video. Alan Rickman… wait for it… reading Shakespeare! I mean, his voice is heavenly enough, but to hear it say Sonnet 130 in particular?

Oh.

My.

Gosh.

Okay, so my experience with this sonnet is — well, I didn’t know the name of the sonnet, let’s just say. I’ve only heard it once, and that was during that Comic Relief thing with David Tennant and Catherine Tate. Even then, Tate speaks it so fast I just focus on her voice than the words.

My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips’ red ;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damask, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.

It’s A Small World After All


Okay, so here I was sitting in front of the television — it seems the only thing I do these days — watching An Education for the night. It wasn’t my first choice to watch, but seeing as my copy of House, MD Season 7 has up to only episode 13, I was forced to watch the period drama. Not that I mind, since period drama is my thing. The costumes, people! They are interesting.

Anyway, about thirty minutes into the movie, find myself thinking that “Hey, those actors seem familiar to me.” I mean, when the credits were rolling at the beginning, I knew that some of the names were familiar (Carey Mulligan, for example), but my memory responds to images and to faces, not names.

So I searched up An Education on the internet and saw that Jenny Mellor and Rosamund Pike were in Pride and Prejudice as Kitty and Jane Bennet, respectively.

I know, shocker. Oh, and thank goodness for Wikipedia.

Looking through the cast list, I also saw that one of the actors, Dominic Cooper, was in Mamma Mia! with Amanda Seyfried (did I spell that right?).

So, I’ve concluded that yes, it is a small world after all. I never knew who played Kitty Bennet in the film, and it’s like way at the back of my mind that Rosamund is that woman I’m seeing on the screen right now. You see, that’s the funny thing with memories: you never know what you retain. For me, at least.

BTW — that’s “by the way” for those who don’t know IM speak, or simply just incapable of searching through common phrases and matching them to the letters — watch An Education. I’m only forty minutes into the movie, but I was hooked the moment it was obvious that David Goldman (played by Peter Sarsagaard) has the hots for Jenny. I mean, she’s only sixteen. For some reason, I find that interesting.

Oh, yeah… Older men are way hott ^_^ Just don’t tell anyone I said that. Sshh!!

Two in One Movie Night


Being the insomniac that I am, I watched two movies last night. The first movie, Beauty and the Briefcase, was a romantic comedy starring one of the stars of my childhood, Hilary Duff. The other, My Girlfriend’s Boyfriend, drew me in because I thought the title was catchy.

Beauty and the Briefcase, as stated before, is a romantic comedy. It reminded me somewhat of Confessions of a Shopaholic, though seeing as I’m not sure which one came out first, I can’t state that this copied from that and vice versa. Nevertheless, watching the plot unfold in Beauty was… well, I’d say it was an experience. Even though I knew that Lane would so get together with Tom and live her happily ever after, I still drove myself crazy whenever it felt like something bad was going to happen.

It did not help that Seth, who by the way is Kyle from Kyle XY, was just so dreamy I get distracted. Oh, and I love, love, love his hair!

I felt like I connected with Hilary’s character. I mean, it’s not my dream or anything to work for Cosmopolitan, but I have been entertaining the idea of working for a couple of years for Candy or Okay! magazine. It’s nothing definite. A girl can just dream, right? After all, the movie inspired and enlightened me.

Moving on to the second movie of the night: My Girlfriend’s Boyfriend.

I think it’s just coincidence that the second movie I’ve chosen randomly to watch happened to be about an aspiring writer named Ethan. He looks like a total nerd and writes about himself in his work (*ahem*), yet he’s adorable and deep. He meets Jesse in a cafe and gets inspired by her, eventually writing his first ever to-be-published book which, evidentally, was based on their love story. He even kept the same name of the heroine and everything.

(SPOILERS!)

This movie totally moved me. I understood Ethan’s plight. I love Jesse with her narcissistic comments and her girl-next-door vibe, and I felt completely sorry for her when she confessed about not being able to have children. Personally, I thought it would’ve been something like cancer (because it was predictable that way), but I’m glad in a morbid sort of way that it was her infertility.

Anyway, it was confusing when the scenes with Ethan and Jesse were followed up by the fictional scenes with Troy and Jesse — Troy, of course, being the main guy in Ethan’s story. But, being the smart, intelligent, observant, completely storyline obsessed freak that I am, I saw through it immediately.

That, and the fact that I vaguely remember a friend recommending this movie to me a long time ago. Perhaps when I was in eighth grade? Hmm…

Overall, it was a fun night. I watched two awesome movies in their own right, and I get to sleep three hours before everyone starts waking up. Yeah.

Cry of Doom


Oh, lookie what I found in the pile of forgotten files in my computer!

Aagh! A shout came through the door
Grr! A voice growled under the floor
Eek! Came from a dark corner
Oh my! I am a goner
Bang! The door swung open wide
Roar! Came the voice inside
Swipe! Went the knife into me
Gone! Was the world I see…

If I remember correctly, I’ve written that thing I call a poem when I was about twelve. Quite morbid and depressing, really, for a twelve year old to be thinking about death. There’s no history behind it. It was just one hyper recess break, a little girl, a pencil and a piece of paper.

© the.Luigi

2011 Graduation/Recognition Ceremony


Last night was the Recognition Ceremony of my school and, suffice to say, I didn’t have high hopes for it apart from the fact that I got one more award than last year. I would be the very first graduation for the Senior class also, so it’s pretty special, but it didn’t do much to raise my spirits. I applaud the Seniors, really, but the ceremony was just that boring.

Of course, I can’t just say that the night was uneventful. It might’ve started that way — I mean, there was nothing noteworthy until the guest speaker appeared onstage with his humourous speech — but as the night progressed, I found myself enjoying the hour.

As with every year, I buy a dress for the occasion. This time, the dress I chose (a chic pink number, which I accessorized with a black leather belt) was wonderful and people complimented me on it. The shoes, black leather wedges, I borrowed from my grandmother. I always do that, anyway ;D

When my name was called, I got on stage and took my medal, smiled and, though I can’t remember it, I must’ve curtseyed and then traipsed off the stage. The principal jokingly asked where my long boots were (I had worn them a few days before at practice), and I understood that it was her way of gently chiding me for my outrageous fashion sense. Because really, long boots were uncommon where I come from.

Anyhow, the highlight of my night was when he noticed me and congratulated me for my awards…. At least I think it was for my awards. Everyone was just crowding around each other, shaking hands and trading smiles. It was very confusing and, for some reason, I felt like a celebrity.

The night was wonderful. I was ecstatic. I was on high from that brief conversation. And as always, my grandparents had to be the killjoys. We went home early before I even got a chance to say a proper goodbye to my friends, many of whom I won’t be seeing until the next school year.

I know, sad.

But at least I had the memory of him congratulating me. Song of the moment? Untouchable by Taylor Swift.