How not to love this man?

Pamuk on football in Der Spiegel.

"The image that I remember most of all is of the Fenerbahçe players storming into the stadium before kickoff. They were called the canaries because of their yellow jerseys. It was as if they, like canaries, were fluttering into the stadium out of a hole. I loved it. It was poetry"

This was endlessly amusing too:

Spiegel: Albert Camus once said this about his days as a goalkeeper: " All I know most surely about morality and obligations, I owe to football."
Pamuk: Oh, come on. That may have been true in Algeria in the 1930s, but today it's naïve. Morality is probably the last thing one can learn from football today.

Of course this being Pamuk, some nonsensical controversy can't be far behind - what do you know, the man is an "inadequate nationalist'! Jeez.

I have been (an still am) stuck without internet and cable at home so haven't really seen the Euro 2008 matches yet - didn't miss much as France had a shittily boring and useless opening match. And as expected the Zizou ghost did come up - I miss him! I am totally for Turkey too (on principle alone - I can't not be right?) except for the fact that they must be the frustrating team ever and I have less than zilch expectations.

Also, I have been told this is Female Sexual Desire Week, so yeah, photos in this post are an added bonus. Excuses to still put up Zizou pictures are always welcome. And I don't think I've ever put up a picture of Pamuk before. It was the man's birthday on Saturday. Belated doğum günün kutlu olsun to him!

Eligible bachelors, perfect men and the like

Slate attempts to explain the Eligible Bachelor Paradox:

The problem of the eligible bachelor is one of the great riddles of social life. Shouldn't there be about as many highly eligible and appealing men as there are attractive, eligible women?
Actually, no—and here's why. Consider the classic version of the marriage proposal: A woman makes it known that she is open to a proposal, the man proposes, and the woman chooses to say yes or no. The structure of the proposal is not, "I choose you." It is, "Will you choose me?" A woman chooses to receive the question and chooses again once the question is asked.

It was quite hilarious reading the article because a friend and I were discussing the exact same thing yesterday night over dinner. (How we got around to this topic I have really no idea!) And then last week a couple of us were having drinks with a professor of mine from college and in the midst of some really random conversations and revelations I would have been much happier not to have known, the same topic (again I have no idea how) had come up with my professor saying that it was always the woman who makes the choice and that men really didn’t have much say in the matter. On the whole he was wondering why his wife had chosen him and mostly marveling at his luck.

The idea of the woman choosing expressed in the proposal is a resilient one. The woman picking among suitors is a rarely reversed archetype of romantic love that you'll find everywhere from Jane Austen to Desperate Housewives. Or take any comic wedding scene: Invariably, it'll have the man standing dazed at the altar, wondering just how it is he got there.

Anyway, this is what I found interesting:

In this auction, some women will be more confident of their prospects, others less so. In game-theory terms, you would call the first group "strong bidders" and the second "weak bidders." Your first thought might be that the "strong bidders"—women who (whether because of looks, social ability, or any other reason) are conventionally deemed more of a catch—would consistently win this kind of auction. But this is not true. In fact, game theory predicts, and empirical studies of auctions bear out, that auctions will often be won by "weak" bidders, who know that they can be outbid and so bid more aggressively, while the "strong" bidders will hold out for a really great deal.

TAP and I were having one of our mad conversations a while back and had a good laugh over the article. (He thinks there’s an eligible bachelorette paradox which is being ignored here). I don’t even want to bother paraphrasing so I’m just going to channel TR here.

[4:13:04 PM] Szerelem says: you know I fit the behavior of a strong bidder totally
[4:13:28 PM] Szerelem says: only you know its a catch 22
[4:13:33 PM] Szerelem says: what if im not???
[4:13:41 PM] Szerelem says: then im not over bidding and am screwed
[4:15:35 PM] TAP says: or, you're *not*
[4:15:38 PM] TAP says: which is worse
[4:15:53 PM] TAP says: so you think you're conventionally deemed more of a catch, eh?
[4:16:52 PM] Szerelem says: no
[4:17:15 PM] TAP says: but you just said...
[4:17:17 PM] Szerelem says: im saying i behave like one
[4:17:24 PM] TAP says: ah
[4:17:24 PM] Szerelem says: even if im not
[4:17:32 PM] Szerelem says: so if im not - which im not - im screwed
[4:17:49 PM] TAP says: OR
[4:17:53 PM] Szerlem says: ??
[4:18:03 PM] TAP says: you're just thinking too much about the double negatives
[4:18:09 PM] Szerelem says: whatever

Whatever is right. I’m happy enough with all those men with chiseled features and intense brittle personae and of course that other fellow who I told TAP (only like half joking or something - I mean Pamuk is really cute also) is my ideal man. Only to get the snarky reply “So your idea of the perfect man is a 55 year old, preferably with moppy hair, old fashioned glasses, who lives in his mother's house, is dreamy and writes in long hand, and has preferably won a Nobel prize?” Duh. Yeah. Who needs real people anyway?

Movie notes

I saw There Will Be Blood yesterday. Finally. I liked it very, very much indeed. I know people (Alok and Falstaff – this means you!) who came away underwhelmed, and I do agree it reminded me of many other films (especially Citizen Kane minus the ‘Rosebud’ angle) but I still felt the movie held its own.

For the first twenty or so eleven minutes and thirty three seconds of the film not a word is said and yet the movie was gripping from the go, by sheer dint of the awesome barren landscapes and the complete power that Daniel Day-Lewis exudes. It’s very difficult to take you eyes off him - his face and its very role appropriate nose lends itself perfectly to Daniel Plainview’s character and his taut body at the start seems to contain the kind of force and sheer power of someone determined to make it; by the end, as a consequence, what is left is a mangled, crooked figure.

Of course, this being Day-Lewis he inhabits his character absolutely completely, beyond just the mere physical aspects. When I came out of the theatre I was trying to remember who else had been nominated for the Best Actor Oscar this year and at that moment couldn’t remember any of the other actors, which is kind of apt. Also, no wonder the man ends up acting in only four movies in a decade – it’s exhausting watching him, I wouldn’t imagine what it would be like to live a character like Daniel Plainview.

I must also mention Paul Dano who plays Eli Sunday [1], the faith healer who gets on Plainview’s wrong side. The entire time I was watching Dano in the film I had a nagging feeling that I had seen him somewhere before and late last night it hit me that he was in Little Miss Sunshine – what an awesome turn from that to There Will Be Blood. He really holds his own, which is saying a lot considering the first guy who was supposed to be playing the role got freaked out and overwhelmed by Day-Lewis and quit a week before shooting.

Anyway, I am quite keen on watching the movie again – there are some excellent scenes (with excellent background music) that have stayed with me since my viewing – and quite honestly a Daniel Day-Lewis release is enough to get me to the theatres many times [2].

[1] For people who have seen the movie, can someone clear the air about Eli and Paul Sunday? Were they one and the same person? The movie is hazy about this and while it doesn’t really matter, it’s still interesting speculation.

[2] Daniel Plainview is such a despicable brute most of the time, but half the time the camera focused on Day-Lewis I would be thinking “OMG…he is so hot!” (and also “OMG… he has such a gorgeous face!” and “What amazing bone structure!” among others). This is not so bad though, I even think Ralph Fiennes manages to be amazingly sexily evil as Voldemort. He doesn’t even have nostrils in that role! I need help!
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I recently found out that one of my most favourite books (ever!) Brideshead Revisited is being made into a movie. I am all kinds of skeptical about this entire project (never mind the cast) - really, there might be a good reason why the book has never been made into a movie.

I adore, adore, adore the TV series (the boxed set is one of my most prized possessions) which is twelve hours(!) long and which I wouldn’t wish to be a minute shorter. How they will take all the material of the book and compress it into a 100 minute movie is kind of beyond me. I mean, come on, that isn’t even enough time to fully exploit the homoerotic undercurrents of the Sebastian - Charles relationship!

Of course, a lot of my skepticism stems from the fact that, apparently, in the original draft of the script they decided to leave out Aloysius, and though they’ve brought him back in now, my reaction to the whole thing is just, “Dude, WTF?!”

Coming back to the casting, for me Brideshead has always been about Sebastian and I really can not think of anyone except Anthony Andrews in that role. And though Emma Thompson as Lady Marchmain and Michael Gambon as Lord Marchmain sound interesting, how can anyone compare to Claire Bloom and Sir Laurence Olivier in those same roles? This is not even mentioning Sir John Gielgud’s amazing turn as Edward Ryder. Finally, before I finish my pointless ranting, I offer the picture to the left proof of the fact that any version of Brideshead without Jeremy Irons will just never measure up.

P.S.: Who's to say, maybe the new film will turn out OK...hopefully more people will know about the book (if they don't already, in which case they are cretins) and will go watch the original miniseries.

I want to watch!

A new Daniel Day-Lewis release is so exciting! What do you expect when the man does like four movies in ten years (really, those are the stats). And when he's as fucking fabulous as ever. And fabulous includes hot [1].

Day-Lewis was on the cover of the NYT magazine last weekend. It's an interesting (if long) article. I love that he admits he has 'the right nose' and was more than amused at the fact that he spends hours at the Manolo Blahnik store studying the construction and design of shoes (he was apprenticing as a cobbler in Rome when Scorsese came looking for him to play Bill the Butcher in Gangs of New York).

Apparently there is a lot of Oscar hype around the role as well. It would be cool if he won considering he was robbed, robbed, when he didn't win for Gangs. Also, finally a movie to look forward to. Is it just me or has there not been a single decent Hollywood movie out this year?[2]

[1]Sigh. I remember when I first saw The Age of Innocence. Day-Lewis is perfect as Newland Archer. And so beautiful.

[2] Ok, admittedly I haven't seen No Country for Old Men. And also, no The Kite Runner is not something I am looking forward to.

Fugly, Football, Random

Looks like I spoke too soon. So what if Jeremy Irons didn't make the cut for gofugyourself.com in his Golden Globe ensemble. He still had the SAG awards to prove a point. Gosh. I saw the pictures and my first thought was "Oh, boy. Will that make the fugly list or what." It sure did. In all fairness though, the outfit isn't all that bad. I blame the Willy Wonka sun glasses. Well, I guess mid life crisis's express themselves differently for different people. Some people probably just need to dress weird. Mr. Irons Sir, I totally get that. I still like you. Just thought you should know.

On the topic of Jeremy Irons, my DVD's of Brideshead Revisited and Elizabeth I shall be arriving soon. That makes my happy. *Insert obligatory mile wide grin just thinking about the viewing pleasure those videos will give me*

In other random news, Marco Materazzi got headbutted - again. I'm sorry but I really can't control my urge to laugh at this. I hate that Inter is having such a good season - bleh, bleh, bleh - they are like the Italian Chelsea. BLEH!!! Milan have been terribly bad this season. At this point I am hoping that Ronaldo has a good season ahead - even if that means having to see those gawd awful teeth.

Right. End randomness.

Monsieur Humbert Humbert

How timely was my last post I ask you? Just after I rave about British actors they go and sweep the Golden Globes. Then there's also the question of Jeremy Irons. I blog about him and suddenly everywhere I look - he's there! For one I’ve been trying to get my hands on Brideshead Revisited (to no avail) and he’s in that. I saw the Merchant of Venice day before and he played Antonio. And then he was at the Globes where he won for Elizabeth I. I haven’t seen the series but that didn’t stop me from cheering and saying “He totally deserved that!” But that’s only because he is always good.

Interestingly, he was wearing a Chinese shirt with red buttons, a pattern of red roses and sleeves that were much too long. When I saw that I was quite sure he would make it to gofugyourself.com’s list of offenders (he hasn’t yet). Oh dear, I thought. Sir, I love you and all but red roses? Really?? Oh well, who am I kidding, he still looked totally hot.

Right. And then in the library I stumbled upon this little gem. The audio book version of Lolita. No prizes for guessing who it’s been narrated by. (For the record, Irons was also in the 1997 movie of the book.) I didn’t hear the whole thing (its eleven hours long!!), but just listening to Irons’ voice as he read Nabokovs prose lends a completely different perspective to the book. I have read Lolita, but I just had to read it again, and I am. It’s even better than I remembered. And like all truly great literature there are tiny details, nuances you missed the first time, what you make of certain lines changes.

The opening paragraph of Lolita is not only one of my favorites but also one of the most beautiful I have ever read. And now all I hear when I read it is Irons’ voice narrating it with such love, passion and sadness all at once. The beauty of it just breaks my heart.

“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta.

She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita.”

British thespians, Borat and other random mumblings

A friend of mine, P, was in town on break from her studies at Columbia. It was good fun to meet up with her after months really. The evening was spent talking about my trip, books, authors (Pamuk teaches at Columbia. She said he’s a bit of a diva, but a really good teacher anyway), and watching a ridiculous amount of E!
Including a show they had on called ‘The 100 Hottest Bodies in Showbiz’. Ralph Fiennes was #95. It was terribly amusing to see his deadpan reaction. “Uh? When was this? Ten years ago?” I didn’t see anymore of the show after that. Seeing Fiennes on E! was more than I could have hoped for. He also probably brought more class to the channel than they could handle so it was probably be safe to assume that it would only go down hill from there.

Right. Anyway. Ralph Fiennes is currently acting in Samuel Becketts ‘First Love’, down under, in Sydney. How much does it suck that he wasn’t on stage when I was in London. I mean, really. It sucks.
The theatre scene in London in general, however, makes me go green with envy when I think of people who get to actually live there. It’s so unfair. Given my love for British thespians, I just think it’s so unfair that Londoners get to see them all over. Before I left, the RSC was heavily advertising its production of ‘Antony and Cleopatra’, with Patrick Stewart as Antony. It made me wish I could postpone my return by a few days just so that I could catch the opening night.

Then there was all that heavy promotion for the movie ‘Venus’ (it releases later this month in the UK). I have only heard superlative praise for Peter O’Toole’s performance in the movie and I really, really want to see it. O’Toole has been nominated for the Golden Globe and Screen Actors Guild awards for the movie already, and I really do hope he gets an Oscar nod. Plus, the script is by Hanif Kureishi, which in itself raises my expectations, as he happens to be one of the most bitterly funny authors I have ever read.

I was loitering around HMV the day before I met P. And I happened to find the DVD of ‘Brideshead Revisited’, (Jeremy Irons plays Charles Ryder). Had it not been terribly expensive, I would have bought the set in a flash. When I told P she asked me, “But you have seen it, haven’t you??” When I replied in the negative, she whacked me with the nearest cushion she could find, “How can you not have??!!” I have of course known about the mini series for a while, but I just never went out of my way to look for it. P told me that it is the best adaptation of a book she has ever seen and anyone who has ever read and loved the book (how can anyone not like Brideshead Revisited?!) must see it. Anyway, I found out my library has a copy, but only for “restricted use”, which explains why I have never seen it there. So am headed there soon to find out what the hell this restricted use thing is. Seriously, wtf?

In any case, P told me that though she thinks Jeremy Irons is the most beautiful man ever, and as excellent an actor he is, the actor playing Sebastian (Anthony Andrews) is excellent and is probably the most brilliant piece of casting ever. This of course has piqued my curiosity and now I really just have to see the series. For the record, Jeremy Irons is another one of those British actors I adore. If a movie version of 'Death in Venice' is ever made Irons should be cast as Gustav von Aschenbach. Well, I think so anyway. Plus, if anyone ever deserved an Oscar for voicing a character it is him. What would the Lion King be if he hadn’t voiced Scar? Not even half as good, that’s what.

While talking to P, I was trying to think of British actors I don’t like and admittedly came up short. I think one reason I like the Harry Potter movies is because they stuck to having British actors in the movies. Alan Rickman (excellent as Snape) Gary Oldman, Maggie Smith, Ralph Fiennes et al – that’s class. And I would have thought it impossible to be able to pull of a TV version of ‘Jeeves and Wooster’, but Stephen Fry and Hugh Laurie actually do manage to do the impossible. P, however, had a point when she said that, well, there are some actors who you really can’t not like.
“Who doesn’t like Daniel Day- Lewis?”
“Some people don’t even know who he is!”
“Idiots, needless to say.”
Point.

While still on the topic of movies. I finally saw ‘Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan’ yesterday. (Am sorry, but I really couldn’t resist typing out the whole title). Right, so I thought it was ok, but not as funny as it’s been made out to be. I think the Borat clips on youtube are funnier that the movie. Parts of it were hilarious and it could have been so much better. But it kept degenerating into the same old crass toilet humour and that was disappointing. Yes, you do laugh at the stupidity of the Americans – the Rodeo scene was hilarious and the scene with the college guys was, I am sorry to say, reminiscent and a somewhat apt representation of a lot of American undergrad frat boys I know. But in other cases, you just feel pity for the people who are caught up in the whole thing because they are obviously decent people and then whom is the joke on?
Oh well, still probably worth a watch. Just not that funny.

Turk-O-Pop

I have been meaning to write about Turkish pop. But every time I start thinking of what to write I reach a road block. Hmmm, Turkish pop – it is good. What more is there to add? When it comes to music that’s all that matters. As long as it sounds good, I will listen to it.

Other than that, well I might as well admit it; I started following Turkish pop because of Tarkan. Omfg, he is totally not my type but he is so pretty, it’s a crime. And duh, I’m not the only one who thinks so. Roswitha once blogged “Ooof. This man reminds me of how heterosexual I am.” Not to mention Panacea who is prone to making declarations like “Once Tarkan figures out his sexuality, I'll be his slave for life regardless of what he decides.”

Of course it helps that he can actually sing. Yes I like his Simarik number (do not gag!!) and no, that is not his best song. (I am partial to Sikidim and Kuzu Kuzu - don’t ask). And don’t even get me started on that absolutely god awful Holly Valence Kiss Kiss version of Simarik, the song is so, so, so much better in Turkish.

Oh, and did I mention the man can dance belly dance? I kid you not. I think it’s the video of Hüp where at one point he lifts up his tank top and does a dance that would shame even the best belly dancer in the Middle East. There went all doubt about him being straight. I think I was sitting with my jaw on the floor and wondering how to react; it was hilarious. In any case, in my book Tarkan wins over Justin Timberlake any day. No contest. Tarkan’s latest album Bounce is in English and I was amazed by how fluently he sings in what is actually his third language. And though I think his Turkish songs are much better I am quite taken with his Start the Fire track. Tarkan is mind numbingly good dance pop. No two ways about it.

As good as Tarkan is, my two favourite Turkish songs haven't been sung by him. The first -Isyankar by Mustafa Sandal. I don’t think it would be an exaggeration to say that it would rank as one of my favourite songs in any language. The beats, rhythms and I love the flute in the background. It’s fabulous. Oh, and it says something about the song that I like it even after TPF trashed Mustafa Sandal on one of my comments page. Not to mention, ruined the experience of listening to another Sandal song I like, Araba. Now every time it comes on on my iPod all I can imagine is Mustafa Sandal singing “Car, Car, Automobile!!” (Because Araba means car in Turkish and the song is about how Mustafa's rival has a great car but not a great heart and how Mustafa will get the girl in the end because he' has a good soul even if he’s not rich). Well Isyankar doesn’t have inane lyrics. I checked, they are quite nice.

The other Turkish song I really adore is Aman Aman by the Turkish rock band Duman. It’s very grunge and Kaan Tangöze’s raspy voice adds great texture to the song. The funny thing is both songs (Isyankar & Aman Aman) have a very Indipop feel to them. In a way they remind me of what Indian pop could be but rarely is. No thanks to the remix cum semi porn brigade. And I don’t have anything against Himesh Reshammiya, but there is only so much nasal singing one can take.
Oh, and before I end. Çakkıdı by Kenan Doğulu. Because that is catchy music.

Italian Lovin

In keeping with the bimbo theme...

Also, I’m bored and couldn’t be bothered to write a post of any value (so head butt me) and spent the better part of the day watching football videos on youtube and all that footer watching must somehow find a way onto my blog.
And I feel the need to share, via a useless post, my new wallpaper – Signor Andrea Pirlo.

Because I was fed up of staring at the Tower of London on my screen. Because I’m looking forward to visiting Italy in December and I need to get out of my French fixation. And because there’s only so much resistance I can put up when a man has hair like this.

Picture Courtesy: De Ludo Globi

Ok. This has got to be the most random post on my blog, like, ever. But its 3 am and I am in the weirdest mood possible. So, if need be, please ignore.

No more bimbotic posts....For a while atleast......

Let's Objectify: Zinedine Zidane

Roswitha has very kindly asked me to blog about Zidane as part of the ongoing “Project Objectify”. And me being me, Zidane being Zidane and this being a legitimate reason to dedicate a long rambling post to him, how could I ever say no?

So, Zinedine Yazid Zidane. Or, why I started watching football.

I don’t think there is any aspect of Zidane’s life, his skill, his technique that hasn’t already been analyzed to death. And therefore, nothing I can say about Zidane on any of those would be new. In any case, what I do want to blog about is my absolute adoration for Zizou.

Growing up, I wasn’t much enamored by football. Cricket was my sport of choice. My first cogent memory of football is the 1998 World Cup. I remember watching the final. Brazil vs. France. Everyone I knew was supporting Brazil. I was supporting France, for no other reason than that, well, it was France. I remember those two goals. I remember thinking that Zidane made for such a strange footballer. That bald patch on his head – it just didn’t fit. I didn’t become a football convert after that though. But I did remember Zidane. He was one of the few footballers who I knew by name. Frankly, who can forget a name like Zidane?

Then, I came to college. Cricket was non existent and everyone followed football. And one day I sat with a friend and watched a recording of that Champions League Final. And, omg, was I convert.
To see Zidane score, to watch him on the field, his roulettes - that is pure joy. And pure sport. There is such beauty in his movements, such grace, fluidity and elegance.

That Zidane has often been compared to a ballet dancer is not strange, because a dancer he is. And then there are his close ups during a match. Sweat drips off him by bucketfuls (it’s a result of his thalassemia). There is rarely a smile. Only complete, absolute focus. It’s almost as if you can watch him out thinking his opponents, strategizing. Zidane wasn’t at his best during his last couple of years at Real. He admitted as much. But he was still better than most players could dream of being.

And then there was the World Cup. How could people write him off?? I didn’t. Though I sat in perpetual fear of France being knocked out during stage one. And then in the knock out stage, it was almost like he was another player. He was back.
Before the final, Zidane said he wanted to dedicate the team’s great run to their fans – but only those who supported them from the beginning. I read that and squeed “Me!!Mememememememe!!” Yep, that was a shout out to me from Zizou himself.

When I started watching Zizou play, his head wasn’t yet clean shaven. That bald patch made his moves seem even more surreal. He was gawky off the field (He still is. Andrew Hussey once wrote that he sits delicately. Like a girl, with his legs crossed.) And he wasn’t considered cool or a hot football stud.

And I ask you this: did anyone see this mans face? Have more gorgeous intense green eyes ever existed?? I think not.
He is beautiful. Does he not look like a Michelangelo sculpture? The chiseled face, square jaw line, intense eyes, bald pate. And he has the cutest booty. Ever. And when he smiles the way his eyes crinkle. Gosh, I just drool.
As final proof of Zizou’s utter desirability, the picture below. How many people can manage to look incredibly hot and sexy in a purple and white t-shirt? I rest my case.

I know it’s become almost impossible to mention Zizou without the World Cup finals being brought up. In any case, I have already blogged about the final and the craziness that followed before. Gosh, I miss the way my blog had turned into a mini Zizou shrine during the WC.

Also, Zizou’s moved on and I wish everyone else would as well. Please take note Marco (he was supremely arrogant and physical taunting doesn’t count) Materazzi and Sepp Blatter (Robben Island, my foot).
I just have to say though, can you imagine if Zidane actually didn’t have a sister? He could’ve turned around to Materazzi’s comment of “I’d rather have your sister” and said “Well that’s too bad, you little jackass cos I don’t have one!” GAH!! Oh well.

Other ‘Project Objectify’ posts on Theirry Henry, Fabio Cannavaro and Rafael Nadal.

December is booked!

The trip has been planned. The tickets have been bought. I am now almost completely broke. And quite happy with myself.
It hasn’t quite worked out as planned. Spain was getting a bit impossible. It was expensive to fly there from Italy and traveling within the country would have been very time consuming. So, Spain is out and England is in. Italy and England for one whole month. Two weeks each. And I get to spend my birthday and usher in the New Year in London. Am terribly excited.
Nitty-gritties of the trip are being worked out and all travel advice is welcome! Also welcome, recommendations of places to see in England and around London.

In other news, my cousin was in town over the weekend, which was therefore spent eating fatty food and drinking cocktails at 11 am in the morning. Needless to say I didn’t manage to get much work done. I did however manage to spend time with my favorite Englishmen – Ralph (Fiennes) and Daniel (Day-Lewis). I do not feel the need to use surnames.

Speaking of Ralph Fiennes, I am wondering about the probability of running into him while in London. I am hoping that he might be on stage at West End at that time, though I highly doubt it (especially since the since the Faith Healer has just finished its run on Broadway). Hmmm. Perhaps I should consider stalking or the like.
Omigosh, I need help!!

Vignettes

I had forgotten that I live in a city where sudden rain – no, make that sudden torrential rain – can never be ruled out. Its one reason I always, always carry my umbrella with me. (That and the fact that I was once stranded in the rain and had to pay $15 in cab fare for what is actually a two minute walk.) The two weeks I had been back however, were marked by clear blue skies and warm, balmy sunshine.

So, I guess I wasn’t to blame when I decided last Wednesday that carrying an umbrella around was a bit unnecessary. Especially since I was going to the library (a fifteen minute walk from home), it was wonderfully sunny and I was carrying a tiny bag which looked bulky and overstuffed with an umbrella in it.
I walked into the library in sunshine and walked out forty minutes later to be greeted by grey skies, thunder, lightning and yep, torrential rain.
Arggh! I was stranded in the library for half the day. Which, come to think of it, is a great place to be stranded. But still, I had errands to run and couldn’t finish any of my work.

And to think I should’ve learnt from my previous experience of being caught in the rain. Anyway, my umbrella is back in the bag and nothing can make me venture outside without it. Even if rain has not been forecasted for the entire month.

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Over dinner a couple of days back, A (new French student in class) and I had the following conversation:
A: So which part of India are you from?
Me: The North. Why?
A: Well….you don’t look very Indian
Me (strong sense of déjà vu): Oh. Let me guess, I look more Moroccan/Algerian/Iranian/Turkish/Spanish right?
A: Yes!
Me: Yeah, well this is like the zillionth time I have had this conversation with a French person.

Oh, what the heck. I am the poster girl for multiculturalism.
The conversation was fun on the whole. We discussed, among other things, the upcoming Presidential elections, Nicolas Sarkozy, Ségolène Royal, Jacques Chirac, Camus (am reading Exile and the Kingdom), last years riots, Zidane, how the World Cup was healing for France and showcased a new Germany, Michel Polnareff and Indochine (the region and the movie).
Sigh, I love the French and I really, really want to go back to Paris!!

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It seems that I can not mention Ralph Fiennes’ name without adding, or rather blurting out, “He’s so hot!” It’s often quite embarrassing and I wish I could keep my tongue in check, but I can’t help myself.
I am helping T with some research work this term and was in his office when I saw a DVD of The Constant Gardener lying on the table and dissolved into a fit of gushiness.

“Have you seen it? Isn’t it really good?? Isn’t Ralph Fiennes fabulous in it??? Isn’t he so hot????” I think poor T was a bit taken aback at my enthusiasm. Though he recovered quickly enough to ask “What is it with this guy? I get the same reaction from my fiancée every time she sees his picture!”
I was about to say she has great taste when he mentioned his ‘observation’ that apparently Fiennes appeals only to women over twenty-five. GAH!!! I completely disagree, good taste has nothing to do with age and any attempt to correlate the two is pointless.
Needless to say I am not, repeat not, twenty-five years old!

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Andre Agassi ended his 21 year professional career yesterday. It was sad and made me want to cry. Agassi was one of the last remaining sport stars I really admire and who I grew up watching, still playing professionally. And now he has retired as well. He’s such a class act. So much heart, so much life, so much spirit. Love him. And I love that he is with Steffi Graf. They seem so perfect together. He should have and deserves a fabulous post retirement life.

First Zizou, now Agassi. It’s been a sad year for me sports wise.

Talking of Zidane (yes, that was a cheap way to change topics - so headbutt me), he was at the Danone Nations Cup final in Lyon yesterday. He sponsors the tournament and seeing him with the kids was just so adorable. I completely drooled and died. According to the Guardian he has been having a nice quiet life, post the World Cup. Taking his kids to school and watching Madonna’s concert in Paris!

There was also a post match interview yesterday where the interviewer tried to act smart by asking Zidane if fair play was a value he would like to impart to the children?
Zizou’s answer (roughly translated): “Of course, and I am not the only one who promotes it. Children have to learn from things and it forms a part of their education. If this question is referring to my red card, let’s just say that is the past. I hope that these children will never do something like that in their lives. I will say it to them, as I say it to my children, never do that.”
Awww… I just drooled and died - again.

Sexy grey hair and balding footballers

For anyone who ever questioned my taste, GQ magazine claims that 'Grey is the new black'.
Fitting reply to a certain cousin who reacted with absolute horror at my statement that i think Ian McKellen is cooler than Brad Pitt anyday and that he is also the sole reason i would even consider watching trite that is The Da Vinci Code. Her response - why the obsession with old men with grey/white hair? Of course i could not and would not dignify such an ageist comment with an answer. I mean he is Ian effing McKellen (aka Gandalf/Magneto/sheer brilliant actor) if you don't think hes cool you're the one with the problem. Hmpff.

It would be like someone asking why i obsess about balding footballers*^, which is no way to talk about Zidane (as if anyone needs a reason to obsess about Zizou).
On a side note France play Brazil on Saturday and in all my biasness i hope, nay pray, they win. Also rooting for Argentina over Germany today. This should have been the semi final line up. England and Italy are such trash. Hmpff.

Update: ok, i totally need to eat humble pie now, since Italy are in the final (as are France - YAY!!)...and as favourites over les bleus somemore...arghh, arghhh, arghhh!!...allez zizou!!

*I was actually asked this (the horror) and had to draw on all my restraint not to whack the person silly. Idiots abound i tell you.
^I realised Ralph Fiennes is also balding. Patrick Stewart is already bald. Does this indicate a new fetish on my part for balding men? Will bald be the new grey?? Hmmm.....

Explaining Szerelem

got a question from Cherie yesterday - whats szerelem? is it an extension of your new found Turkish obsession? Well NO! sigh...dont I deserve a bit more credit??....

Szerelem, Szrelem is a very very beautiful hungarian song (one i listen to quite constantly).... szerelem meaning love....its quite haunting and i like the sound of it....plus it also has to do with all other possible names I came up with before being unavailable....even if the blogs havent been updated in forever!(note szerelem is also taken, hence this address is actually szerlem...a perversion if you may)...I do think its beautiful so am sticking to it....its is also in the hope of squelching the overbearing cynic that i have become.....ok I was being sarcastic there....see what I mean?

it also comes from my still existant English Patient obsession..... ok make that Ralph Fiennes obsession...its the theme for the movie which is how I chanced upon the word.....by the by I am still besotted with the movie and I adore Fiennes.....finer eyes havent existed..and such a fabulous actor.....see the constant gardener for proof....the pain he brought across broke my heart .....