I Smell A Rat

Oddly enough, it seems rather fragrant.

Of course, I'm talking about that animated chef of a rat, Remy in Disney-Pixar's Ratatouille. And for a dish that sounds disturbingly like some guy hawking up and spitting out a huge wad of phlegm, the movie just makes me want to fly off to France just to eat that "simple peasant dish".

It's really a wonderful movie, one of the best I've seen this year, also one of the most original (not that hard, actually considering the whole string of disappointing sequels that got trotted out this year). It's everything you expect from a Pixar movie - cute, funny, entertaining, and full of heart. If the story of a country rat who dares to dream, chases that dream, and changes everyone's lives in the process doesn't get to you, the amazingly rendered fur just might.

But just try to ignore the fact that one of the characters is ridiculously named after a cheesy Italian pasta, which, somehow, seems less believable than a cooking rat. Perhaps Pixar had decided it was payback time for all those years of unfortunately named talking clocks and teapots.

Ratatouille is a movie best served warm, cuddling up on a comfy sofa with your loved one, with a cup of hot chocolate near at hand.

Have can you not want to go see such an adorable rat?

I'm loving it so much I wouldn't mind watching it again. And maybe one more time after that.

By the way, the short that precedes the movie is excellent (as usual).

Teruk Things On Tuesday

The hash brown in the morning was probably the last happy thing to happen to me yesterday. After that, things just went downhill (figuratively) as I headed north (literally).

First of all, I hate the north stretch of the highway. Construction going on for most of the way, so traffic can be bad, and so can be the road itself. Worse still, none of these contractors nor the highway authorities give a hoot about safety and housekeeping, essential (though, in Malaysia, oft ignored) parts of any construction work.

Barricades not being lined up properly, insufficient notice of narrowing of lanes, dirt, stones and debris all over the place... the wonderful gray tarmac highway of Bolehland is now a national hazard traversing at least three states.

Anyway, somewhere along the way, on one of those single-lane stretches, a random stone flew off the wheel of the van I was stuck behind. It hit my windshield with a loud kuh-rack! And crack, my windshield did. Fuck. I've been only driving my baby for less than a year!

Luckily it was just a rather small crack, which didn't crack through, nor has it cracked across the windshield. Which means I can still drive my car around. Still, I still need to replace my windshield and we all know how much large pieces of good glass cost, especially bent ones. This is where I'm heaving a sigh of relief for having the foresight to insure the windshield and windows.

I thought I'd snap a pic of the crack on my handphone to show the insurance people. That was when I noticed the screen protector I had just bought for my phone on Sunday, was coming off. Damn! I'd be perfectly within my consumer rights to walk back to the shop and demand a free replacement. But then, I was halfway to the north and wouldn't be heading back to the valley for a few weeks. Grr...

Small problem compared to my car, though.

Well, I do have to give my thumbs up to the people of Perodua, from the salesman who had sold me my car to the staff at the service center. They were actually helpful, willing to answer questions, willing to consider options, and didn't give me the run around. Unlike so many companies in Malaysia who have no concept whatsoever of customer service.

So, despite not having all my car and insurance docs, they still managed to check my records out and will even help submit my claim. Now I just have to wait for the windshield stock to come in and get the repairs done.

Somewhere in all this, I totally forgot that bad things always come in threes. Well, I just noticed today that my back windshield wiper is gone. Not just the wiper, the whole arm contraption thingy.

Damn. Damn. Damn.

Drowned World

Why is my reflection someone I don't know?
Christina Aguilera: Reflection

Through The Looking Glass. Mirrormask. Stories that seem to ask - what places exist behind the mirror's keep?

Looking at the water, I sometimes do wonder - does it see a world that's different, mirrored upon its deep?