If I could make a movie...this would be the IMDb profile...(to be updated)

Buzzed on Life Europe Tour (2008)

Director: NK & SC
Writer: NK & SC
Release Date: 5 July 2008 (Rome, Italy)
Genre: Comedy/Drama

Tag line: Good girls go to heaven, bad girls go everywhere.
Plot Keywords: Barcelona, San Fermin, Paris, Bastille Day, Bruges, Amsterdam, Berlin, Vienna, Salzburg, Venice, Florence, Chianti, Rome.
Cast:
NK as Kumar
SC as Harold
Others
Parents Guide: R
Runtime: 30 days
Language: English, Spanish, French, Dutch, German, Italian
Company: Buzzed on Life Inc.
Trivia: (more to come)
Both NK and SC got so inspired by the movie “In Bruges” starring Colin Farrell.

To get ready for this summer trip, NK and SC started a Friday night tradition in the spring that involved a series of debaucheries titled “Buzzed on Life.” Previous episodes include: Smashed on Life, Rock the Boat in Life, NK and SC go to Clink, NK and SC escape from Central Square, and the Last Hooray in Boston.

Goofs: (more to come)
[SC] I’m glad we are sort of on the same boat
[NK, after looking around on the river] We ARE on the same boat…the same sail boat.
[SC]……I meant figuratively
[NK]O, u are gonna make a great travel buddy.

Quotes: (more to come)
[NK to SC] you are a slave driver!

[SC to NK] I love you so much but if you loose the Eurail pass, I might have to kill you.

Soundtrack: (suggestions welcome)
Sail Away …… David Gray
All Around the World …… Oasis
Road Tripping …… Red Hot Chili Peppers
On the Road …… Bob Dylan
One Vision …… Queen
Paradise City …… Guns ’n Roses

Adrenaline Junkie Wanna-Be

For a while I fancied the idea of becoming an adrenaline junkie…mastering the extreme sports---rock climbing and sky diving sorts of things. Then I realized I am such an acrophobic chicken and went only as far as parasailing. So I settled for the following list of things I should try in the impending summer:

Run the Esplanade…$0.20
Rollerblade at the Citypoint beach…$5
White water rafting…$60
Take sailing lessons…$88
Continue Spanish classes…$198
Weekend getaway to the same house on Cape Cod like last year…$400
Europe in 30 days…$4000
Un verano excelente…no tiene precio

Oy, I better start stackin’ some greenbacks.

Picture: 2 summers ago in Hydra, Greece.

Shoot first, sightsee later

The midget confesses, “I was on horse tranquilizer. I wasn’t gonna wave to anybody, maybe except a horse.” Oh wait, he prefers to be called a “dwarf.”

This scene hangs around as a joke among the friends who I dragged to see In Bruges (2008). Going to Bruges myself on July 15th, reason enough for me to watch the film. Hopefully I won’t be too fat to climb the windy stairs of the Belfried, or too skeptical of any Irish tourist sitting next to me on the canal tour.

I don’t care that some thought the sightseeing scenes were boring, or that the medieval dream setting was corny, I really enjoyed the movie. It satiated all my guilty pleasures: foreign location, gun shootings, romantic twists and very witty lines. The leading characters include 2 professional hitman, a midget, a prostitute, a drug-dealer and a potty-mouthed boss. The film is rather dark (my favorite kind), but I thought the point of the film is that there are so many things wrong with the world, it’s awful and sometimes you can’t help but laugh at it.

Half of the conversations probably offend just about everybody, dwarfs, fat Americans, and even the Belgian locals. However, it’s got unmistakable sincerity which sets In Bruges apart from the Eurotrip kind of mindless goof-offs. The jokes got me jumping from my seats (figuratively speaking), but the evocative questions of sin and redemption string them nicely together to give a deeper reason to watch the movie. It is also left open to interpretation, how the playwright-turned-director Martin McDonagh intends it to be. I will spare you the discussion on the spiritual experience of purgatory here, and maybe you won’t even find the movie anything more than comedy of words. But it definitely is not one of those movies that try too hard to make a political statement. Besides the light-hearted amusement and haunting contemplation about death and such (only for the few with suitable hearts), I found the music incredible, Brendan Gleeson very endearing, Ralph Fiennes very sexy, and Colin Farrel very expressive eyebrows. I also got thirsty from watching them drinking Belgium beer.



Ken crawls to the edge of the stone bell tower, a trail of blood coagulating behind him. The fog hypnotizes the sky of this 15th century little town and completely isolates Ken from the crowd below. Christmas lights on the streetlamps illuminate wooly. Snowflakes grace the rosy cheeks of the children. Lovers rush home in each other’s arms. All you hear is the crystal clear sound of coins dropping on cobbled streets…well, I wont’ ruin the movie for you. As this point I was crying uncontrollably (the only other times being reading The Kite Runner and watching One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest).

Airport Bliss

A few weeks ago I was at the JFK airport. When I stood inside the lobby, I had the strangest pleasure of inhaling the smell of the airport. I always believed that there is a distinct odor to travelers, of French perfume mixed with Persian spices, of sun block lotion and sweat, and okay I’ll admit it, of old socks too. You probably think I am crazy but I enjoy airports. I don’t really mind the layovers and long hours at the gate. I had quality time just chilling and people watching. Sometimes with a friend hanging out at the ridiculously expensive coffee shops or bars, more often by myself, imagining my destination.

When I really think about it, half of the beauty in traveling is the anticipation. The reality has more to do with frantically searching for my luggage, being utterly confused by the map, or trying to explain myself in a foreign language. And I am definitely that kind of person who plans the trip way ahead of time, reads the travel guide devotedly, and googles the destination daily. All of that culminate in the few hours before the plane take off. I associate airports so much with total bliss, something like the naivety in opening pandora's box, so curious but so ignorant of all the difficulties and frustrations to come.

I can’t wait to hop on a plane again. Although that’s not happening for spring break Argentina, I have put down every penny in my name for the Europe trip. 30 days, 10 cities: Barcelona, Paris, Brugge, Amsterdam, Berlin, Vienna, Salzburg, Venice, Florence, and Rome. I think my heart beat just got a few times faster. :-) Thanks for all your inputs! You are more than welcome to join us for a leg of the trip, or give me advice on some of the cities, please!

My favorite airport by far is Bangkok Suvarnabhumi, hands down the most amazing modern design I have seen. I was stuck there for 12 hours one rainy May day, but a couple dishes of very spicy noodles later, I was happily sipping my starbucks latte and listening to Jack Johnson’s People Watching.

Si's Dilemma

Si's Dilemma

I am nail-biting, hair-pulling, insomia-suffering, hopeless indecisive. HELP!

Is a spring-break trip to Argentina finanically disastrous for the much anticipated month-long Europe trip??

Yes, don't go to Argentina and save for Europe. How often can one go to Europe?
No, go to Argentina and dont' splurge in Europe. How often can one go to there?

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Bubbles & Happiness

Emotional states oscillate like emulsion of oil in water. As if the two naturally coexist, for every droplet of joy, there is equal volume of pain. One second I am floating in complete bliss, the next I drift into a globule of sorrow, not knowing when I will drift out again. The bubbles of happiness, seem so ephemeral and fragile. I wave my hands around but I can never quiet catch them. It really is a jungle out there. I could be having the best day, strutting in paradise where there are endless pleasant exchanges. A smile, a compliment, a pat on the back. The next thing I know something blows up in my face like a landmine. A frown, a complaint, a silent look away. My brain automatically and incessantly seeks out those behavioral hints, triggering the translation of external factors into stimuli that will dictate my emotions. Am I crazy to be so easily influenced? MY emotions, MY happiness, my very own sanity, is at the mercy of other people’s simple gestures that may or may not mean anything. I am almost ashamed to admit to such instinctive need for confirmation and ingrained eagerness to please. Toiling over the interpretation of these cues, something is lost: a sense of identity and self-worth.

Someone said to me once, “Only you can make yourself happy. A more reliable source of happiness is gotta be somewhere deeper down within yourself. Don’t let anything or anyone ruin it.”

That’s it, my 2008’s resolution.

The Unresolved Questions

Why do you want to be a doctor?
What are your strengths and weaknesses?
How has your childhood shaped you?
Why should I admit you?
How are you unique?
Why you?
Why?
You?

This is only one hundredth of the lengthy list of questions they could ask me. And I would be asked again and again, until my palms sweat, my hands shaky, and my eyes no longer confident enough to return their glaring gaze. If my brain will still function at the end of this stress test, and if I will remember what I was talking about, then I have showed that I am psychologically mature enough to study medicine. Nobody can give you those answers, so there is no use comparing to others.

That's not even the scary part. What is worst? After long periods of introspection during which I dug deeper and deeper, picking my brain and soul apart for answers, I was petrified to find that I do not have those answers. Aren't those questions about me? Shouldn't I know that much about myself? Why are questions about myself the hardest to answer? Am I a stranger to myself? Introspection is a strange thing, it pulls you out of your skin, lifts you up until you can see yourself sitting there, hunched over the sheet of paper, scratching head, and pulling hair out. I wish they make injectable dosages of "peace of mind".

Nothing could placate the turbulence in my head, until I saw this quote:

"Be patient toward all that is unresolved in your heart and try to love the question themselves."

On a lighter note, when stressed out, there is always food. Today's calorie intake (in addition to the regular three meals) = poppy seed muffin, clam chowder, gummy bears, oreo ice cream. I was gluttonously craving all of those at the same time, crazy. First bite of that muffin I know that four-mile jog was gone, all down hills from there. Eat up, life is too damn short.