Wednesday, June 28, 2006

Just got the email from a girl called Emily Fung. She happened to bring me the bad news about the Canadian Chamber of Commerce Short Story Competition. I lost, not even on the honorable mention list. I was quite confident indeed, yet it proves I am not up to that level. I planned to do some reading tonight. Now, the mood is gone. I just want to do nothing.

What is Southern Comfort?

It is the wine that Mr. Chow taught me to drink with 7-up, all the way back in the summer of 1999. Venue: California in LKF. Since then, every now and then, it has been the standard drink I order in bars.

It is also the name of a film I wanted to see for a long time. I finally get it, thanks to Roger. I will watch it tonight.

I jumped into Atom accidentally in the new HMV in CWB. We went to Pokka cafe for a tea. I have not seen him for a while. Some time was needed for warming up the conversation. We talked about YI HEY, well actually only I did.
Two great discoveries:
1. Roger helped me buy the DVD of Happiness (1998) in the States. I used to have the Vcd but it's nowhere to be found at home now (perhaps it's because of my sister who has a habit of displacing and re-placing stuff, especially my treasures - books, vcds, dvds and cds). I wanted to watch it again simply because of Me and You and Everyone I know. Both films have so much in common - about people living in the postmodern world, a lonely and alienating life and every one of us has deep down something bizzare, either sexually or habitually. I've never seen a movie as disturbing yet humorous and appalling. I highly recommend it. You can get it in HMV.

2. I bought the magnificent The Faber Book of Smoking, edited by James Walton at Page One.
It has all the passages from speeches, essays, screenplays, novels, poems, whatever in print that concerns cigarettes. Some of the passages are amazing, such as:

"because non-smokers were becoming increasingly irritating, and the only way I could distance myself from them was to light up"

From Martin Amis's London Fields (1989): "On the wall was a sign bearing the saddest words Keith had ever read: NO SMOKING."

Thank you for smoking.