One with the Crowd.

In a recent resurgence of blogging, I too feel the urge to follow the crowd. (Yeah, I'm a sheeple. Bite me.) Thus, I present "Things I worry about..."

...when I think about going away for Uni

• Bad Showers
• Lack of uber smokin' I-think-you-set-my-eyes-on-fire-hot guys.
• Missing my violin
• Not having enough Asian food.
• Hating the weather
  

Things most people worry about for University

• Tonnes of work
• Not failing
• Getting jobs
• Practical stuff.

Discrepancy? I think so. It's possible that in fact, I don't really care about the school part of school. Why? Because I'm pretty sure school is the same everywhere. Sure, the professors might be better here than over there, or there's a ratio of 1:2.667 teachers per student or whatever it is that people judge quality of schooling by. But in the end, I'm 99% sure that it doesn't matter what school I went to because they all teach the same thing.

Now, this would be different if I wasn't going into engineering. But I am, so let's not get all hypothetical here. I applied to the exact same program which is going to get me the exact same degree at 5 different schools. The only thing different about the schools is their surroundings (and the innards of the buildings). While some schools lure you in with promises of school spirit and parties, others beckon with promises of warm weather and good food. But really, it's the downsides (or lack of) that make the decisions.

I'm not overtly worried about sharing rooms, I mean, if it gets too bad, I could always just request a new room(mate?). But the little things bother me.

For example, showers: People always say that you should wear flip flops into the shower. Footwear just doesn't make for a good shower though! Rubber flip flops always get that icky slimy feeling when wet, and wearing any other material just feels stupid. Who the hell wears leather flip flops to shower in? Nobody, that's who.
It sounds crazy now, but a good shower is key to staying sane. Living in a house with enough water pressure to clean your pores out, I'm setting a pretty high standard. As long as there is sufficient water coming out of the showerhead to rinse shampoo off my head, I think I'll be able to cope.

Also: My stuff. I have tonnes and tonnes of stuff. Where does it go? I'm not living at home, so there's not reason for my parents to hold onto my stuff. but I certainly can't take it with me, there simply isn't room. Perhaps this is the perfect time to nip my hoarding tendencies in the bud before I star on my own documentary on A&E. "Hoarders: The woman who hoards SPAM"

The answer to my problems?
Making a perfectly rational Pros and Cons list for each university. How perfectly logical of me.
...Until you realize stuff like "BIG" and "Jizz in Pants Chem Labs" have made it on to the lists. (But those are sort of valid points...)

No?
Oh well.

For the Love of Newts

I’ve always looked upon my friends with mammalian pets with a little jealousy. My nonhuman best friend is a newt. While my friends give their puppies hugs and run their kitten’s bellies, I chip blocks of frozen bloodworms with dull knives. When my friends whisper secrets to their rabbits or guinea pigs, I scrub algae off a rock. When a child gets their first hamster, it’s cooed ever and poked and prodded. When someone gets their first newt, it’s met by screams of “get it away from me!” Not to mention that newts carry salmonella and excrete neurotoxins. But you should be fine if you wash your hands and stuff.

But sometimes, when I catch a glimpse of scratches left by a cat who did not want to be bathed, or the hair left by an overeager dog, I smile to myself and silently praise the docile amphibian. My newt may not do cool tricks, but he's not going to eat my favourite earphones or pee on my rug. He might not come running to the door when I come home, but he's not going to bite or scratch me either. Best of all, he's not going to cause any allergies, which is more than I can say for cats.

But I still feel absurd when I whisper secrets to him. You just can't tell your secrets to an amphibian.

(So I should have been writing university applications, but, I got sidetracked into this.)

I'm so 2008

Hey, remember this?



Oh yes. Olympic protesters!
What was that? Free Tibet you say? That's funny, because I don't think it had anything to do with the Olympic games that were actually being held. *

*abbreviated because I can rant on about this forever.

But you know what does have to do with the Olympic games being held right now?
Vancouver's homeless.

It's no secret that Vancouver has a huge homeless population, between the high real estate prices, housing shortages, and huge rates of heroin abuse, there's a booming bum population. Interestingly enough between the time Vancouver won the bid for the Olympics and now, the homeless population has doubled (predicted much earlier), and not just because the number of addicts has skyrocketed due to the advertising of "Team Canada Heroin". Housing booms have forced ordinary people out into the streets. But that's what the government's for, right?

No! Since the Vancouver Olympic Organizing Committee (VANOC) went 5 billion dollars over their 550 million dollar budget and had to be bailed out by the government, anything that isn't feeding/housing/massaging/or killing athletes has been brushed aside. So what did they do about the homeless people? Well, after passing a bill that gave Police free rein to do whatever they damn well like to the homeless (bumfights anyone?) they also forcibly removed them from the area. Funny, apparently there isn't any room in the 5 billion dollar budget to squeeze in a little sommin for the homeless, eh?

"Oh but every city does this" is no excuse for doing it again and again. Every time the Olympics roll around to a city, it brings social havoc. The poor get poorer (and sometimes evicted) while the rich get richer (and score a prime seat at the games). Vancouver really could have used all the money it spent on the Olympics to help out their own city instead of putting in a shining mask for the world. They're not fooling anyone anyway.

Speaking of not fooling anyone, what is up with all the aboriginals? Yes, I think it is important to celebrate the native heritage of this country (that is otherwise squashed and relegated to a reserve with contaminated water). But Canada is not 99% aboriginal, which is what some might believe after watching the opening ceremonies. If we really wanted to show what Canada was all about, then there would be a multicultural display of everyone together; different, yet the same. I guess it all boils down to the guilt. Aboriginals are 15 times more likely to become homeless (see above rant.), they're stuck on reserves where it's overcrowded, underdeveloped, and impoverished. To move off the reserve means using money they don't have, because they're on the reserve. And within the reserve, there are all the problems that poverty causes: glue sniffing, alcoholism, suicides. But hey, at least they get some air time to do some throat singing, right?

I'm pretty sure the money that went to sending truckfuls of snow down a mountain would have been much better spent on the city itself, but hey, the Olympic spirit lives on in Canada!

Oh wait, no it doesn't. Sure the records are getting faster, stronger and higher, but it's also getting a lot more hostile. Instead of the fair play that is expected of people who want to excel at their sport and display their talents, it's been reduced to doping and exploiting the grey areas in the rule book. Canada has been particularly naughty these years. Researching top secret technologies for the athletes seems a little underhanded. While using technology to improve the sport isn't unfair, it is decidedly unfair to make sure that no one else is able to use the same technology. It's become less about the sport, and more about who has the lowest coefficient of friction.

So, which one was worth boycotting?

***Anti Free-Tibet rant coming soon to a blog near you!

Homework/references/articles I've read
The Walrus
The Homeless Issue
Someone that holds the opposite point of view

In Soviet Russia, Newspaper reads you!

Let me share with you my favourite way to waste a day:
The ironically titled Pravda news website.

Why so Ironic? Gather around children, it's really simple explanation time.
Pravda is Russian for "truth". And yet, the front page of that site reports its top story as

"Thank You Massachusetts For Killing Me"

Oh, so it's like the Onion? You ask.
No, unfortunately, this site takes itself VERY SERIOUSLY.

History buffs who avidly study the Russian communist revolution will recall that the leading newspaper of the Soviet Union had the same name. Indeed, it did, but it died in 1991 when the Soviet Union died. This site is unaffiliated with the historical newspaper, but it is run by former Pravda employees. Which begs the question, what were they reporting when it was an official newspaper if it's being run by the same people?

Some of my favourite articles?
"Aggressive Blonde Creatures Are Very Bad at Getting Jokes" in the Society Section..
"3D Films Can Make You Paranoid " In Science..
"Poland is Cruising for a Bruising; US Eating Its Own Vomit" In Opinion...

Not to mention the entire series done on an alien supposedly found in an attic. (Generally believed by the rest of the world to be a mummified fetus)

And thus concludes another blog post done when I should have been doing something else.

Noob Years!

HAPPY NEW DECADE/YEAR/END OF 2009!

I cannot express how happy the end of 2009 makes me. It's been an "interesting year" to say the least. Of course, there were good moments, but these were largely overshadowed by all the crap that's been raining out of the skies. For the last week, I've been rolling out of bed very very slowly, partially to avoid being hit by vertigo like a fish to the face, and partially because I feel like 2009 will not go away quietly. I plan to celebrate New Years eve cautiously. I'm quite glad I don't have to walk anywhere as I suspect I will be kidnapped by mustachioed men as the final huzzah of this shitstorm.

"Oh but surely you are exaggerating!"
Am I?!
I've had two concussions this year, the most recent of which (last week actually) is probably the root cause of my vertigo. Tilting my head is like being teleported from my comfortable home onto a boat. But not the good, fun kind of boat, no, much more like the itty bitty dinghy that is about to be flipped over by that approaching 10 foot wave. Fun stuff I tell you. The most reassuring part? There is nothing you can do about it.
Now, you've heard about my car accidents.
And last of all, my ankle tumour! Eagerly awaited post, I'm sure. Basically, it was a cyst that got infected, and had to be removed (Watch, if you dare!). The removal was pretty much the exact same as the video, if you added more "AUGH I CAN STILL FEEL THAT AND IT HURTS" and some blood and pus oozing out of it as I waited for someone to "pack it." Now, "packing" sounds innocent enough, but as it turns out, it really means that someone is shoving gauze into the hole until it's full. Ouch is an understatement.

Needless to say, I am hoping this run of bad luck will be over in 2010, and everything assoctiated with it will be resolved.

As for my resolutions, I resolve to be more optimistic. The good things that came out of this year would have to be my bitchin' trip to China, my awesome bartending skillorz, and all the fun I had this summer. I think I'll take the cliched road and resolve to be healthier, it couldn't hurt, right?

But now: To go bartend an asian party, and then to go out downtown and (carefully) celebrate the end of the year. Let's hope I don't get hit by lightning!

Oh Shiying? I remember her...

THE HAPS LATELY:

1. I have a hole in my ankle. Details eventually
2. We got a Rooma. "Charles"
3. We're going to Vermont tomorrow
4. I'm not buying people things for Christmas
5. School is out!

"Regular" Blogging resumes after the 26th.

Lordbug just doesn't have the same ring to it

So, recently, there's been a strange influx of ladybugs in my house. It started in September, I had just gotten home, and was minding my own business when I discovered a ladybug in the creases of my pants. I shooed it into another part of the room, and ignored it. A few days later, I was opening the door to my house when I discovered a ladybug on the other side of the door. Other notable times would include the time I found one in my shirt while I was undressing for a shower, and the one I almost stepped on thinking it was a speck of dirt.

There are no overtly large gaps in our house that would let the ladybugs in. And even if there were, why are there only ladybugs? So far, we've let the ladybugs live in peace, seeing as it is likely a mutually beneficial arrangement. Our plants (especially my hibiscus) often have bug problems over the winter, and from what I understand, ladybugs feed off of these bugs. Thus, I spend less time worrying about tiny insects flying up my nostrils, and the ladybugs don't freeze to death.

After a quick googling, it turns out that the species of ladybug I am seeing is the Asian Lady Beetle. It was introduced to kill aphids, which it did quite well, but because it is so competitive, it is also damaging native species of ladybugs. And, it is often known for hibernating in houses since it is native to Asia.

Invasive species? Helpful farm hands? Harbouring fugitives? Dilemma!

Though, truth be told, I think I have more things to worry about than non-native species of beetles taking refuge in my kitchen.

Well, Shit.

So. Today, I was driving and I got hit by another car. Now I am never going to be able to pay my insurance. FML

Well:

I was driving back from the grocery (Metro, if you will) and I was waiting to turn left. The way seemed clear, so I started turning. In my peripheral vision, I could see a car coming at what appeared to be an alarmingly fast speed considering the light had turned yellow some time ago. As my father says "watch out" it is pretty clear that no matter what I do, we're going to get hit by the car. (Though he argues that if I had stopped, we would have been fine. Maybe?) So, One large impact later, I'm sitting in a cloud of air-bag fumes.

Upon leaving the car, I can hear someone yelling. Turns out it's the woman in the other car, she had seat-belt injuries (as assessed by a doctor passerby). [Seat belt injuries would be caused by inertia, meaning that car was clearly moving very, very fast] and our car has leapt over the median and hit a car that was just waiting for the lights to change. The poor sucker. Anyway, police show up, firemen show up, lady gets carted off in the ambulance. The "main" police officer seems the most unsympathetic, luckily for me, he was writing the tickets. (Sarcasm. fyi)

So, after waiting and sitting in the tow truck, and waiting some more, the officer comes over to deliver the accident reports and also hands me a ticket for "Careless driving" (6 points, $300+ fine). My father cannot keep his mouth shut, and decides to argue with the (already looks like he has a chip on his shoulder, or possibly a stick up his ass) police officer, who only gets angry and frustrated at my dad. I am told that I can reduce the fine, and get all the points off if I go to court. My father on the other hand, is convinced we should fight all the charges, which would inevitably result in the police officer showing up at the trial, and pwning us for good; leaving me to never be able to drive again.

At home, the good ol' Pops is convinced that insurance will care about any charge, despite my insistance that it is most likely just the points they care about. So, now it is a lot of apologizing met with unconvincing "I'm just glad you're okay" and trying to see what the best way of dealing with this charge is.

Fucking cops. Hmph. Also: Dad, SHHHHH Listen to people.

And: How weird is it that I had a dream about getting my G2 last night? I got my G2, and then I was unable to drive to school because of a blizzard. Symbolic?! I think so.
It's also weird that everytime my family goes on a trip, something bad happens. When I was young, it used to be injuries, this year, it has to do with cars. (Detroit: Car was rear ended, PEI: I was hit by a car, Montreal: I crashed the car)

I caught me some spammers!

From beckykoulibaly@cantv.net

Attn Please

Dear I know that this massage will come as a suprise to you but after much consideration i decided to contact you,before we proceed, i don't know if i have introduced myself to you, I am Miss becky koulibaly

The reason why i send this massage to you is because i am not safe here due to my situation and my predicament so i decided to seek for your assistance.

I have a serious problem which is an injury that lingers in my soul for almost seven months now and i want somebody who is reliable and honest who will advise or give me a suggestion on how to overcome the crisis. my mother is not longer alive here in abidjan as i am writing you and recently My Beloved Dad join his ancestors though the hand of his wicked brother who call him self my uncle but has turn to be a lion over night to me.

How i wish i will see you now in my country and we talk to each other at present. my father before his death was a chairman of cocoa dealers here in bouake ivory coast,that was when am still a student at the federal college of in Abidjan. but i stop school after the death of my father because my uncle decided to poison me just for nothing sake, As am writing you now, all my hope and dream of future was shartered and spread to the sky as i don't know what to do,

My father left a big amount of money with the bank USD 4.5MILLION DOLLARS, and i don't know about this, it was on the 10th of october last year that our farmily lawyer kindly hand over to me the documents covering the deposit and the WILL my father wrote and the instruction on how i will utilise the money, Meanwhile i don't know what actually what to do with this money because of shartered brain and life line, that is why i contacted you so that you can advise me or give me suggestion how i will handle the inheritance and also help me to transfer this fund to your account .

And after the conclution of the transfer i will come over to your country to continue my education, Please it is a long story that if i start to narrate them now, you will be start shedding tears over there, but i will give you more details in your next mail but kindly bear in mind that i need you to help me out of this my bad condition and help transfer this money to his account and assist me come over there for security of my life and the fund and start a new life you.

Please i need your help, please i will love to hear from you urgent.

Thanks once again and please extend my greeting to your family.

Sweet love from

Miss becky koulibaly

We be demotivatin'

So. Piece #1 of my 4 paintings. Demotivational!
Um... The apple and such are painted with watercolours. the black is some matting that my dad and I cut in our basement (because we are awesome) and the letters are painted in acrylic.
(Caption cred goes to Krzys :D)

"Why do the apples have eyes?"
How else could you tell they weren't horrible, horrible apples.
"Your lettering is crooked"
I'd like to see you do it better. D<
"I have less friends than these apples"
Sucks to be you?
"what are those tiny black dots?"
The souls of people ground into paint form. (Actually, my friend was splatter painting a table over, and I didn't notice it was getting on mine until I thought to my self "hey, what are those little damp droplets?")

So. Yes.
Also: Have a picture of me.


So, yes. A self portrait in acrylic (Colours are not entirely correct. I'm a little more purple. Turns out, the shade of purple I used is almost impossible to capture)

"Why purple?"
Why not?
(I think that answers just about everything)
edit:
"Are you wearing buffalo hide?" - Regina
Wha.. .... no. It's a yellow shirt. D:!

"Fun fact" the colour of the background happens to be the exact same colour as my backpack. I found out when I dropped paint on my backpack.

Nuit Blanche!

For those that don't know, Nuit Blanche was basically an all-night (7pm to sunrise) art show that was held all over downtown Toronto. This meant that I ran around for the 12 hours I could have spent sleeping. Best 12 hours spent not sleeping ever.

7pm: I arrive at Union station. While on the phone, The installation in Union starts. It sounds like the roaring of a train that is only meters from your face, with no train. Fog comes out the walls, and then it sounds like the train leaves. This was Imminent Departure by Heather Nicol.

Dislocated from her home in New York after the events of September 11th, Heather Nicol’s work reflects on the vicissitudes of memory, loss and desire. Union Station is the arena for countless stories of last-minute escapes, missed connections, lovers' reunions, hitting the road, and being run out of town. This space will be transformed to evoke the romance and heartbreak of travel stories brought about by unforeseen crises.

This was definitely my favourite exhibit of the night. The voices with snippets of stories and the goodbyes, and then the train roaring with no train there at all.

Other interesting things we saw were The Blinking Eyes of Everything by Geoffry Farmer, Definitely one of the more popular projects. It was a stroboscopic machine (that cylinder, that spun around a bright light) which was supposed to induce hallucinations when people sat near it with their eyes closed. The most skeptical man we met in the line ended up seeing the most realistic hallucinations of dogs and animals. As for me, it was mostly lines, and coloured spirals, and other geometric shapes. But definitely a very relaxing experience.

The more hyped exhibitions were less spectacular than expected. Monopoly with Real Money by Iain Baxter& (Yes, that & is legally part of his name) was less than exciting. It was basically watching people play Monopoly, but without the fake money. Beautiful Light: Four Letter Word by D. A. Therrian (picture at the top) was interesting for a while, though not exactly exciting. As one man put it while he walked by "This is art?" Though, while we were watching it, I had accidentally stabbed myself in the face with a pen. So now, I have a .7 mm hole in my chin. It looks like a pimple.

Respire by Anna Fritz was also really cool. She captured all the filtered out sounds from Radio and broadcasted it in the room. It was a dark room with radios and LEDs hanging from the ceiling. Most of it was static, but then there would be some breathing, or some scraping noises and sounds like that. It was interesting, and creepy at the same time.

Far beneath the radio transmission hubs atop the CN Tower and other skyscrapers, Respire employs a matrix of radio receivers to add visceral intimacy to the experience of radio. Sounds of breathing and bodily exclamation, typically absent from radio programming, arise through the invisible and normally inaudible contours of the surrounding radio landscape.

Vodka Pool by Dan Mihaltianu had more potential I thought. It was cordoned off, so that people wouldn't get close to it, but people threw pennies and coins, and on one occasion, a paper plane into it. It looked more like a sad fountain than a giant shallow pool of vodka.

Otherwise, the night was still really fun. We spent a lot of time running around, trying to find where we were going. Grabbing food as cheaply as we could. And we ended the night (day?) by taking a short nap at the Public Library before it was time to go catch our trains.

I WISH I COULD SPEAK CAPS-LOCK

TYPING IN ALL CAPS IS KIND OF FUN SOMETIMES. I MEAN, SURE YOU GET THE URGE TO CAPITALIZE YOUR I'S WHICH IN TURN DECAPITALIZES THEM. (IS DECAPITALIZATION A WORD?)

HOWEVER, I CAN SEE THE DISADVANTAGES OF ALL CAPITALS, NAMELY THAT IT TAKES UP A LOT OF SPACE ON THE LINES, AND THE LACK OF DISTANCE BETWEEN MY LETTERS MAKES IT A LITTLE HARD TO READ.

BUT AT THE SAME TIME, IT'S LIKE WATCHING A BILLY MAYS COMMERCIAL. OXYCLEAN! MIGHTY PUTTY! I DON'T KNOW WHY THE VOICE THAT READS CAPS READS IT IN A BILLY MAYS-YELL BUT IT'S FUN. IT'S LIKE READING EPIC THINGS IN THE VOICE OF MORGAN FREEMAN.

I WONDER IF I CAN TYPE SOMETHING DOCILE IN ALL CAPS.
"THE FLUFFY LITTLE BUNNY SKIPPED THROUGH THE PINK COTTON CANDY AND WAS QUICKLY TRAPPED IN THE SUGARY CONFECTION. IT STARTED TO STRUGGLE, WHICH MADE THE CANDY HOLD ON TIGHTER. AND SOON, IT DROWNED, WITH PINK SUGAR IN ITS LUNGS"

THAT WAS TERRIFYING.



RIP BILLY MAYS. YOU WILL BE IMMORTALIZED BY THE INFOMERCIAL INDUSTRY

Correlation, or Coincidence?

So, remember when I found out my mother has been reading my blog?

At the same time, I suddenly have less to say about nothing. This could just be that I am running out of things to talk about, and therefore am becoming stagnant and irrelevant OR My brain is automatically self censoring with a great big "MOM" stamp.

Now, if we observe the archive to the right of this post, you can see that I used to blog an average of 7.166666666667 posts a month before July. After July, I blogged an average of 2.5 posts a month. This happens to coincide with when my mom said "So I was reading your blog..."

On one hand, this blog is open to the world, which my mother happens to be a part of, and therefore could be classified as "Fair game" for her to read. That is the whole point of blogging after all, to share your thoughts/opinions/life events/etc with whomever wants to read them, even if it happens to be your mother. It would be unfair of me to ask her to never ever ever read my blog after giving her the URL, but...

It feels like an invasion of privacy akin to her reading my journal (Well, I don't have one, but if I did, it would feel like this). She knows it's there, I know it's there, and while there is the option of reading it to see what I have been up to, she won't because it would violate some kind of trust/privacy issue. Sure, my friends read this, but chances are, if I wasn't blogging it, I probably would have told them. I'd like to think my mom is reading it with good intentions, and not to monitor my every move electronically, but you never know.

So, knowing that my mom has every right to read this, but still feeling violated, I have nothing more to say on this matter.

Also: Yes, this may be a not-so-subtle address to my mother.

What goes "Vrooommmm HOLY SHIT"?

So I got hit by a car yesterday.

I was biking home from Nancy's after a day's worth of adventuring. While crossing the intersection of Lakeshore and Silverbirch (after I had decided which way would be easiest to get home by) I was struck by a car turning left. When I left the curb, the college-pro painters truck moved up, but it looked like the kind of thing drivers use to passive-aggressively suggest you should go faster. But, as the car continued heading towards me, and me not being able to move out of the way (I can't pedal that fast!) a collision was inevitable. Being hit by a car hurts less than one would think actually. Though immediately after impact, it does hurt quite a bit.

The damage isn't severe. Road rash all over, a fat lip, and some oozing cuts on my ankle and face. One of my teeth also took quite an impact, and I'm going to get it looked at today. Plus one broken bike (no pics of that though. The driver took it to get it fixed)

Interestingly enough, my cuts look grosser today than they did yesterday. So you get to enjoy the full disgusting extent of them. (The cuts on my ankle are from the gears of my bike. They're quite deep, and I think there's grease in there.) Unfortunately, I had cleaned the cuts right before I took these pictures, so you're missing out on the stuff that's oozing out of them.


Did I mention that I got a fat lip and road rash on my face?

HEY KIDS

Why is it that I'm the only person that still likes clowns?
Sure, It ruined clowns for most people, but if I were to follow that logic, hills should have been ruined by The Hills Have Eyes, and dusty deserted roads with rusty cars following you should have been ruined by Jeepers Creepers. Oh wait. Yes, deserted roads with aggressively driven rusty cars were always "creepy" weren't they?

Anyways, I just don't see what is so horrible about clowns. I mean, when you disregard It, and maybe John Wayne Gacy, clowns aren't evil in the least. What's one clowny serial killer amongst all the others? Clowns are just so happy! On the outside of course, on the inside they could secretly hate life, but that isn't exclusive to clowns.

Enough with this pansying about the scariness of clowns, people! Suck it up, and start hiring clowns for your birthdays. After all, I want there to be a market for when I join clown college...

I'm not sorry until you're sorry

I find it hard to apologize when I think someone else should first. Which happens around 99% of the time an apology is really needed.

Why? Because I'm stubborn about stupid things.

Case one: In the streets of Venice, my father is blathering on about something that I have to change that I don't care for. So, instead of talking it out like a reasonable family (see the problem here? Reasonable) I stop walking and refuse to move until my demands are met. The father, equally stubborn, keeps on walking, making a showdown of stubbornness. minutes tick by as they stroll out of sight, and I begin making plans to walk back alone. Eventually, I win. My demands are met, and neither my father nor I are sorry. Mostly because he wasn't sorry first.

Case two: Yesterday, my father demanded I get a job. Of course, I had been thinking the same thing as of late, but if he was going to demand something, and then ramble on about how I do nothing all day, I would do the opposite. This eventually degrades into how he never says anything nice (it's true. 91% average? "Pretty good") or listens to me and etc etc. Concludes in "Maybe I just won't talk to you ever again." Followed by spending the rest of the night pointedly ignoring the questions he's asking.

"But Shiying, why are all these stories about your dad?"

Because I don't fight with anyone else. Most of the friends I've had can agree that they have never had a significant conflict with me. I don't fight much with my mom; I do fight with my brother, but that's usually of the "Stop spitting on me!" variety. Only my dad is as stubborn as me, and having two people with conflicting ideas but, both convinced they are right, together ends exactly as you think it would, no?

Moral of the story? I'm not sure, but I bet it has something to do with stubbornness and all that jazz.

About that list...

A certain item has been nagging me for the last 9 months. Namely, that list I drew up of things I had wanted to do by graduation.
It started out as a list of things I've always wanted to do, but found excuses to not to. When it was first written, I was excited to get started, go forth, seize the day, and all that jazz. Mental images of me carpe dieming at TIFF and bungee jumping were still fresh in my mind as I tried to plan the first items to be completed. But as I planned, I still found myself making excuses.

"Oh that will get me arrested."
"That will never work!"
"...Why is this even on the list?!"
"It's too cold/hot/windy/breezy/sunny for that..."
"I bet the squirrels will eat all the balloons, and choke and die.."

At a fantastic 6 months later, I tried to appease the nagging feeling by completing one item. I planted a tree, with SAVE no less. Interestingly, while planting the tree, I did not feel like I was accomplishing a life goal. Or, more accurately, if it was indeed my life goal, it would imply that I make some shitty life goals.

The more I thought about the list, the less excited I was to complete it. Bungee jumping seemed less and less exciting and more and more suicidal, as it seemed that I misjudged the heights I would be falling. Of course, some of the items on the list still seemed to be an exciting prospect, but they were easy targets anyway. Drive in movie? 15 minutes away, really.

I suppose I've just lost interest in my endeavour. I've changed, but my list has remained static. Everything changes all the time, and I suppose who I am now is not quite the same as who I was 9 months ago in an English class, bored out of my skull trying to discuss short stories. Part of the reason I wrote the list was so that I could go out and be more exciting. Well, I've done a lot of exciting things since, none of which happen to be on this list.

But, all of this rambling is just to soften the blow when I say "I am not going to force myself to complete this list." or in other words, I'm not following any lists. I'm going to go seize what I want, with no timeline whatsoever. Of course, that doesn't mean I'm going to avoid doing anything on the list, I'm just not trying to smoosh it all into the next year.

TL;DR I've changed, I'm not doing my list anymore

also: New theme! To suit the summer, though I guess I'm a little behind for that.
also: MOTHER, if you are reading my blog. Please stop. It's weird.

Me Love You Long Time.

It's way too long to describe everything I did in the last 12 days. So, I'll give some highlights! Unfortunately, I took less and less pictures as I was having more fun.

Beijing: The Great Wall.

There's really nothing quite like walking on the great wall and seeing all the mountains and hills. It was smoggy, but still gorgeous. The walk itself was actually insane. One section was on a 60 degree angle at least with stairs that went up one foot a step. But getting to the top was amazing because you could see everything. Thinking about being the builders who had to build the wall was just crazy, we had enough trouble just getting there, let alone building stuff.
I may have been complaining the whole way up and back, but it was a really great experience. Would do it again. Probably with the same amount of complaints.

Xi'an: The market

Sure, there's lots of history and stuff in Xi'an. But too much history at one time gets boring. The market though, is a real sight to see. People were everywhere! There were lots of souvenir stands, but there were also lots of stands selling the local food. Local food being food I used to eat as a small child that is. There were people selling traditional candy, and "small eats" (bad, bad literal translation). It's a shame we couldn't eat the food (concerns about explosive diarrhea and all that)

Shanghai: Partying

I'm not going to lie, Shanghai was good and all that, but the thing that sticks out most is going out. Armed with a fist full of bills, flanked by some friends and accompanied by Ben the professional partier, we went out to see the famous bar street. I can't say I remember everything that happened, but the stories I heard the next morning are absolutely hilarious. Apparently, upon returning from the club, I sat in a bath tub for a while, refusing to get out. After being dragged out, I thought it'd be a good idea to change, which explained why I was in a robe, naked. I also tried to escape (?!) a few times so Alex tried to tie me to the bed (?!?!) and then covered me in coathangers so I would wake her up when I moved. Waking up was one of the most confusing experiences I've ever had, and then I saw the adorable note Alex left.
"Gravol (for pukey) - with tablets of Gravol. Advil (for ouchie) - with some advil. Mints (for smelly)- with some mints"

Hong Kong- Shopping, the world's longest outdoor escalator, and more partying

The shopping in Hong Kong is a little less cheap, but really cool none the less. We walked down to "The Ladies Market" where I bought an awesome hat, and a really awesome pair of shoes and a dress and some shorts. It was made slightly more fun by the rain from an impending typhoon though. We'd dart from tent to tent as the rain stopped and started.

The world's longest outdoor escalator went straight through some of Hong Kong's coolest hang outs. There were art galleries filled with old and contemporary art, and little vintage stores, dress shops, bars and clubs and resturaunts and some apartments too. If I ever moved to Hong Kong, I'd try to move there. The elevator itself was pretty cool too, and took you from the bottom of a mountain straight to the peak.

Partying down in SoHo was definitely the most fun I've ever had. Hanging around the outside of a 7-11 we met some really funny guys living in Hong Kong who we talked with for a while. Later, we found the rest of our group, who found one of the guys that offered me a flyer walking down to SoHo earlier. Him and his friends helped us get into a club (me for free :D) where it was PACKED. We spent the rest of the night dancing away and had so much fun. Unfortunately, we had to fly the next morning, so we decided to leave at 2 am.

So, I had a lot of fun in China, and I definitely want to go back sometime. And if I ever get an offer to move out into Hong Kong, it will totally go into consideration.

Oh! and I forgot to mention that my lack of blogging was not because I didn't have interenet, but rather, blogger is blocked in China

My Life is Complete!

This weekend (or rather, Sunday and Monday) Regina and I went to Detroit to see the Offspring!

We did some other stuff too of course.

We embarked on an epic drive at around 9 in the morning. After driving through the border, and trying to explain to a customs lady who the Offspring were (?! "Hi I live under a rock") we arrived in downtown Detroit. Interestingly, there seems to be an excess of valets, and a total lack of Asians there. In our 2 days there, we spotted a total of 3 Asian people. And two of them were working together in an Asian shop.

We spent our morning/afternoon wandering around downtown Detroit with my dad's other child, the Nikon D300. Apparently, walking around with a large visible camera makes you a prime target for "Hey! Take a picture of me!". As a result, we have many pictures of total strangers/valets walking down streets, sitting in cars and whatever else it is that they were doing at the time. We also have many pictures of us being silly. But, here comes the exciting part.

Or, alternately, why we were in Detroit in the first place. After eating dinner at record speeds, Regina and I get dropped off at "Freedom Hill Amphitheater" (Doesn't it scream "AMERICA"?) where Time Again, the Dropkick Murphys and the Offspring are playing. We line up for merch, and after a while, I acquire another band shirt, one that I could actually wear, because it fits. We find our seats in the ampitheater (Who thought it would be a good idea to hold this show in a fully seated ampitheater?) and we watch Time Again play. They're all wearing matching outfits, and really good performers. But, since it's only 6 PM and everyone's seated, it's hard to get really into the music. But, a good show none the less.

After a break, a bagpiper appears, and everyone knows Dropkick Murphys are on. They play a totally awesome show. Who knew celtic folk music and punk made a good combination? Then again, there's also Norwegian folk metal, so I guess folk music is just a good side genre in general.
As they play, a slow trickle of people beging to pool infront of the stage. Yes, it appears that a pit has appeared between the chairs. It also appears that the security guards don't actually care about people staying in their seats.

Afterwards, Regina and I mosey closer to the stage. And by closer, I mean we walked straight to the stage, about 3 feet away. We wait for the long set up of the equiptment, because, clearly, headliners need all their own stuff pulled to the stage again. (I'm not complaining, as long as it's a good show). As the lights go down, and the Offspring appear, everyone goes crazy, and I go into a state of shock for a good 5 minutes. We take some pictures with my Crackberry, but then just decide to enjoy the show. After 2 hours of awesomeness, and being lurked by some creepy dudes (Seriously, even if we did look older for our age, we were so clearly underage.) t'was all over.

I'm pretty sure we smelled awful, but so totally worth it.

We shopped the day after, but a description of that would be a bore. Suffice to say, I have a new pair of awesome teal/blue converse!

And now, I must go back to pack for my trip to China!

Oooa

"Oooa" Said the squash
"Hi" Said Jimmy
"Oooa" Said the squash, quite persistently.
"What a foul mouthed squash!" Said Jimmy's mother, frowning with distaste as she quickly led Jimmy away.
"Oooa" Said the squash.

Thus, the squash avoided being consumed for another day. But this was not the type of life the squash had hoped for.

In its youth, the squash was the brightest of his class, a rising star. It was quite proficient in the linguistic arts, and was quite creative with its insults. After high school it was accepted into a prestigious university, and decided to major in Offensive Vernacular. This, was considered by many a waste of such brilliance. A squash, the first of its kind to be accepted into this university, studying such a useless major? A shame! But none the less, the squash persisted, and graduated at the top of the class. It moved in with some of its new friends to a smallish apartment in the area populated by graduates.

This was a new start for the squash, and its mind was filled with bright new ideas about decorating the new apartment, purchasing furniture, and things of that sort. But, first, it needed employment. With a degree from such a well know school, who would reject it? Alas, the job offers did not come flying in, so the squash decided to go out and meet its fate.

However, it soon discovered that finding a job with a degree in the offensive arts was much more difficult than it previously thought. Turns out, no one wanted to hire a squash to swear at things, in fact, no one wanted to hire a squash at all. Eventually, it began falling behind on its rent payments, and got kicked out by its friends.

"We're tired of you, you deadbeat!" they said, as they hurled his stuff out the window. And so, the squash sadly rolled away.

It tried begging for change, but no one had sympathy for a squash. In a last ditch attempt, it tried to gain employment at the grocery store. But. alas, it was mistaken for produce, and promptly placed amongst the other squash. It was surrounded by its lesser cousins, and whittled its days away plotting an escape. Days and weeks passed as it planned, and it felt itself progressively loosing freshness. This is a crucial part of its plan, if it can avoid being eaten long enough, the employees will have no choice but to set it free again. Soon, it will be free, but for now, the squash waits.

"My what a delicious looking squash"