Geek with muscles
Saturday. 6.5.10 10:56 am
I have difficulty reconciling Jake Gyllenhaal the Geek and Jake Gyllenhaal the Guy with the Hot Bod. I imagine I see flashes of an argumentative, sometimes lost Geek rather than a Prince and a Warrior whenever he is not busy leaping from roof top to roof top. So, sadly, having muscles and stubble do not automatically turn Geek Jake into Hero Jake.
I think I rather liked him better when he was just Jake Gyllenhaal the Guy with a Great Smile.
ON THE OTHER HAND
Leaping a jeep off a sand dune, having muscles and stubble makes this guy very sexy. Yes I know he is an oldie, but confidence and charm wins hands down, everytime, all the time.
I don't think I laughed quite as hard at a chick flick for a veeeerrryyy long time. SATC was just so riotously funny! The boyfriends/husbands brigade who thought that they would fall asleep in the movie were roaring with laughter just as hard as we girls did.
There was just so much visual information to process! My mind was leaping in roughly this sequence: Shoe! Bag! Dress! Guy! Shoe! Dress! Guy! Guy! Dress! SHOE! Louboutins!
I think I embarrassed myself when I was excitedly pointing at the Louboutin paper bags when the butlers got them out of the car boot.
The storyline was strung together in such a way so as to maximise fashion porn while satisfying the hardcore fans who remembers every detail of the show. At least that was my impression given how distracted I was by all laughter and closeups.
OMG the closeups. I don't know what to say. =_= At least I know why I got my IC checked trying to enter the theatre.
I must say though I was disappointed in Aidan. I was never a fan of Big, I loved Aidan. Aidan was a decent guy. Past tense. WAS.
I know, I know, its a movie. All I could think of when Aidan-married-to-a-woman-he-loves-and-have-3-kids kissed Carrie was "Another one bites the dust".
O well. *shrugs* It happens.
My COO sent the entire bank this
Friday. 6.4.10 5:02 am
PS: Here's the first Neruda poem I ever read; one that remains my favorite:
I don't love you as if you were the salt-rose, topaz
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:
I love you as certain dark things are loved,
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that doesn't bloom and carries
hidden within itself the light of those flowers,
and thanks to your love, darkly in my body
lives the dense fragrance that rises from the earth.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you simply, without problems or pride:
I love you in this way because I don't know any other way of loving
but this, in which there is no I or you,
so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand,
so intimate that when I fall asleep it is your eyes that close
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