1/365: Hello.

One post for every day of the year - it was a relatively popular practice the year that just passed. By the time I discovered the trend, it was too late to get on the bandwagon. Next year, I thought, and all too soon that "next year" has come round.

It's been a long while since I wrote regularly. I kinda suspect that it's going to be difficult to do 365 posts. But it's worth a try, if nothing at all then to retain memories of random observations and the occasional strange and warped thoughts, like those twitter entries I made when on holidays.

For posterity, let's get it on.

tv can also change lives

So I have gotten hooked on CSI:Miami for a while now.
I think David Caruso does a great job as Horatio Caine.
Very cool, very quiet, very intelligent, very righteous, very observant, very spot-on.

My dad asked me what's the difference between the two chiefs in CSI:Miami and CSI:NY?
I told him Gary Sirise (Mac Taylor) is the calm collected leader of his team; but David Caruso is the soul of his team.
Serious.
But of course, the NY team has more eye candy.
Check out Vanessa Ferlito's lips.
And Carmine Giovinazzo. So cute.

But today's post is not about CSI.
It is about one episode of CSI:Miami.
One of the three stories in the episode is that they found a woman who was overdosed on Demerol, doused with expensive cognac and burned to a crisp. During the autopsy, they found out that she was 7 weeks' pregnant and had swallowed an expensive diamond ring before she died. In an attempt to trace the father through DNA testing, Horatio asked the good doctor to take out the foetus from the womb.
What she retrieved looked like this:

She handed it to Horatio on a lab container and he deadpanned, "Well, it's no longer a skin cell is it?"

Freaking awesome pro-life advertisement, I thought.
7 weeks and it already looks human.
This scene made me understand the pro-lifers' stand more than any of their arguments could.
Goddamn.

Are you pro-life or pro-choice?
Me? I don't know anymore.

end of the satc era

I finished watching season six part II of sex and the city over the weekend. The series is officially over. And it does feel like the end of an era. An era of empowerment to womankind, of speaking your mind loud and clear and of course, of going out there to have sex like a man.

I still remember when we first started watching the series. Our first girls' night out after the VCD was passed around was filled with exclamations about how much those girls in the show are living our lives, especially in the dating game. Over the years, we had laughed and teared with the girls as we relived our happiest, saddest and most embarrassing moments with them. One thing was for sure, we realised that the single girls around the world face the same issues as us when it comes to love, sex and relationships. And we know that we are no longer alone. We are in good company.

Some say the ending is too perfect. But then again, if Carrie/Samantha/Charlotte/Miranda, them of the exciting lives and the shopping trips at Prada and Chanel, are not able to have a great ending, then what say us mere mortals?

Thanks girls. For a great six years.
Let's drink to that. First a cosmopolitan, then a manhattan.

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Water cooler phrase of the month: seagull management.
It's used to describe a boss who swoops in, makes a lot of noise, craps on everything, and then swoops back out.
(Cosmopolitan Australia, September 2004)

Sounds familiar?