Our British friends, long fans of Indian food, planned a ‘Chicken Tikka Taste-Off’, to settle the debate once and for all the best Chicken Tikka Masala in San Francisco.

Purchasing 5 Chicken Tikkas from 5 favorite restaurants,

we began the taste-off, each of us with score cards,

which had us rating "chicken", "spiciness", "sauciness" and "bouquet" and overall "tikka-ness"

I am pleased to announce Al Hamra (3083 16th St) as the unanimous (unanimous!) winner.

Yum!

Next, they plan a ‘Fish n Chips’ taste-off. I suggest a Tom-Ka-Gai one.

Boy, oh boy. What a birthday I’ve had this year! From a lovely quiet dinner at home on the day itself, to blowing it up at the Pussy Palace, a James Bond themed party thrown for 3 of us with April birthdays. Given that I have never bothered to throw a birthday celebration myself, riding on the coattails of 2 other birthdays with professional party people made for quite a night!

Beware the PenisGun

Beware the BoobieGun

Beware the PenisGun and BoobieGun placed conspicuously atop wine bar

Beware the triple birthday cake for 3 April Birthdays

We had the wine bar and roulette table

I’ve always had a thing for men in fedoras…

Good times, good times

Oh, and my Bond-name for the night was SingaPussy.

I guess I should write something on my birthday. Although I actually would like to downplay a birthday. Not because I fear the day I turn a year older. Why subscribe to its very definition of just -one- day. And I’d rather not have just one climax to look forward to. Multiple, incessant peaks and peaks and peaks are much preferred, thank you very much. Let the birthday be just one of the many special days.

And boy, have these 2 weeks been a continuous swirl of special moments. We flew to Florida for Easter weekend, where I had my first Easter basket. Then hopped on to NYC (NYC!) where we watched Gypsy (traditional Broadway Broadway, but still fun as hell), trooped around Central Park (where we watched a wizard, yes, a wizard, with the pointed cap, beard, staff, the works (apparently he’s pretty famous) march across the field, bow to sword-wielding wushu guy practicing on the grass, and walk on), raved to Danny Tenaglia from 4am (yes we got to the club at 4am) to 11am, after which we had surreal brunch outdoors. The weather in NYC turned from melancholic rain to beautiful San Franciscan sunshine (thank you God!).

In the meantime, I’ve been catching the SF International Film Festival as much as I could. The highlight has got to be Metallica’s surprise appearance at the screening of their documentary ‘Metallica: Some Kind of Monster’. I’m far from being a fan of Metallica and their music, but it’s Metallica! I screamed as loudly as anyone when they stepped on stage. I couldn’t help but have flashbacks of Spinal Tap as the documentary showed them ego-tripping and talking about the bassist who died/went alcoholic/got fired. But man, did I have a new appreciation for the friggin’ mind-numbing talent they possess where they beauty to chaos. I caught Burning Dreams which was ok for a documentary on Discovery Channel, disappointing for a film festival flick. So I marched on to ‘We Loved Each Other So Much’ which was a great documentary based in Beirut. I never knew how beautiful that place is. Caught ‘Triple Agent’ last night where I couldn’t take my eyes off Katerina Didaskalou. Phew! What a beauty.

Lotsa beauty in the world. Beauty in music, geography and person. Too much to make just one day special.

Although being awakened this morning with a birthday serenade made me feel pretty damn special.

Spellbound: Excellent documentary I watched twice on the plane (because the other movies were so crappy and because it was so brilliant). It ties in the theme of "America" wonderfully. Who would have thought? Learn your lexicons!

The Office: Ok, when I watched the first episode, I hated it. Ricky Gervais was just too successful at playing a complete dickhead. I just felt pissed off and irritated the entire time, wanting to give him a tight smack right on his shiny forehead. He is that big of an arse. He was painful to watch. I would god-help-me never want to meet a real-life David, so why would I choose to spend my time watching him on telly? But Patrick couldn’t stop cracking up and wanting to put on the next one, and the next one. I restrained myself from smacking him too (I kid. I kid.). By the 3rd episode, I got curious from the cackling laughter from the living room and funnily enough, it was when bigger arse Finchy appears that I was won over by the wankers. I learnt to laugh at them the way I did during Spinal Tap.

George Orwell ‘Burmese Days’: Loved 1984, loved the Animal Farm, didn’t quite like Down and Out in Paris and London at the time I read it, so I picked up Burmese Days with some hesitation but it just blew me away. I’ve been really interested in why the "white man" is (still) considered generally superior in so many parts of the world. Orwell clearly shows how the white administrators of a diminishing colonial government who were treated like gods by the brown-skinned locals were essentially the throw-outs of their Western society. Seeing how many dickheads there are in England (from ‘The Office’) and dumbass rednecks in America (from "Spellbound"), the myth of ‘White Supremacy’ certainly grows curiouser and curiouser

I don’t think my brainbody allows me to be the gungho jet-setter I desire to be. After thanking god for Tylenol PM, the miracle drug (Diphenhydramine HCl) that transports you (apparently) across the Pacific Ocean before you can say zip-zip-zippady-doo (by knocking you out for 10 hours at a time), I thought I had found the panacea to ardous long-distance travel. After thanking god that I didn’t seem to have any jet-lag in my 10 days in Singapore, I thought I had become a seasoned, all-mighty jet-setter who could zip and zap to places (across oceans! across mountains!) anywhere, anytime, sky’s and bank-account’s the limit! Hurrah!

Unfortunately, I spent the past 2 weeks in SF pretty much in a daze. The first 4 days could be blamed on jet-lag, falling asleep at 9pm only to awake at midnight, thoroughly refreshed as if from a nourishing nap (no!), only to be able to fall asleep at 9am. Then I got an infection that required an anti-biotic which when taken only twice a day, had the potent effects of that diphenhydramine HCl that sent me snoring (snoring! I never snore!) into the night and nodding away in class.

So when I have to get up at 4am tomorrow morning to catch a morning flight to Florida, my brainbody seems for the first time in 10 days to suddenly feel alive and not put me to sleep. Why-now? What? Fuck! Huh? Shit! etc.

I really shouldn’t complain. A Spring Break Part II in Miami and NYC (culminating in an all night rave session to Danny Tenaglia!!!) is nothing to complain about.

Another round of jet-lag beckons. Ready, jet, set, zzzzzz…..